The Submissives Revenge
by FSOGFanFictionAddiction
Summary: A story of realization, remorse, regret, and revenge. This is Ana's story, a girl who lost her way, and learns that mistakes make up the cobblestones on the road to this thing we call life. A what if story based on the characters from Fifty Shades of Grey.
1. Omega The End

August 14, 2015

An epiphany, (a moment of sudden intuitive understanding; flash of insight). That's what she was having; a clear, concise, painfully humiliating, soul wrecking, mind numbing epiphany. It came to her in waves of disjointed images initially, and then emerged as a detailed video play back in living Technicolor of the last twelve months of her life. It began when she clumsily stumbling into his office, followed by his surprise visit to her job, the photo shoot, the muffin, and then the contract. It was that damn contract that ultimately led to the pain, humiliation, and debasement that no amount of pleasure could ever over-ride. The emotions the images evoked were so sickening that bile rose in her throat followed by violent eruption of her lunch and dinner in the nearest waste basket. She felt cold and clammy and disgusted. Yes, she had been inexperienced in life, romance, especially sex, but she thought she was in love and she wanted him. Oh how she had wanted him. Dark and mysterious, beyond sexy, the embodiment of maleness; the sight of him, the scent of him, caused her near genius mind to malfunction and short circuit. She agreed to become "his" hoping that he would become hers. However, becoming his came at a price. The contract, gave him control over all aspects her life, affectively forsaking the life she had known before him right down to when she ate and how much she exercised, even hygiene and birth control. No more male friends or going out with Kate, celebrating birthdays and holidays with family. No more time just to be. Every time she was late or crossed a line she didn't even know existed, it was viewed as an act of defiance, an act to be punished.

Her entire existence revolved around _him_. When they were not together she was to check in and she was regularly monitored. _He_ _cared about her well being._ They negotiated some of the harsher aspects of the contract allowing for reevaluation if the initial three months was extended. She held fast to no fire, water sports, blood, fisting, anal of any kind, and only allowing spanking with his hand or a small paddle.

With the exception of the first time when he had taken her virginity, the sex had been mostly rough, sometimes painful, and sometimes cruel; using her body and soul to exorcise the demons that would possess him. He praised her at the end of the first three months, telling her well she _**pleased**_ him that her body _**responded**_ so well to his touch, that her _**training**_ was going well, and that she was special and superior to others that had participated in the life style far longer. He had been charming and seductive. She had been thrilled that she pleased him and eager to make him happy. She loved him. When the contract was renewed, she'd relented to include the harsher elements of punishments including canes and belts. He was creative and patient. He could spend hours elaborately trussing her up so that her body, was suspended from the ceiling at a level so that her mouth, breasts, and sex were exposed and easily accessible and she was vulnerable. For her birthday, he gifted her with countless mind blowing orgasms blind folded and shackled to his Saint Andrews cross. She would rather have roses and chocolate. There were weeks when it was painful to pee and welts crisscrossed her back and thighs. When he was particularly stressed, he might summon her to his study and without preamble ram into her bent over and holding her ankles or have her kneel while he roughly fucked her mouth or both and then dismiss her. On more than a few occasions she'd rushed to the pent house on her lunch hour where Ana was ordered to disrobe and masturbate while he ejaculated on her breasts. She was his to use and she never used a safe word. But it was after these incidents that she would rush to her room, violently ill, vomiting his semen, wiping it from her lips vowing this was the last time. Tomorrow she would leave. Allowing him to fuck and punish her was not "winning" the coveted prize of his love. As if reading her mind, he would enter her room, draw a bath, message her with strong sensual hands, tuck her in bed with a soft kiss to the temple and lay with her until she fell into a fitful sleep." Ana", he purred, "I am so grateful to have you. You help me relieve so much stress, you bring me comfort". In these moments she almost believed that maybe, just maybe he could and would love her.

She had not seen Master in five days though they had been in contact through text and email. He had agreed to let her go. She was in Savannah visiting with her mother. Carla was very ill. In fact she was dying. The doctors had given her a week at best and this was day five. Tomorrow was not promised. Her Mother drifted in and out of consciousness. With the sun disappearing from the Seattle skyline, she was sleeping peacefully. Ana replayed their earlier conversation, one of the few lucid talks they'd shared over the last few days. "Ana, sweetheart, you don't look happy and that's all I want for you baby girl. You, my dear sweet girl, deserve at least that. I know I haven't been the best roll model but I want you to find someone who will love, appreciate, cherish, and respect you. When a man shows you how ugly he can be, believe him. Don't think you can change him. How can you expect to do what his mother and the good lord failed to do? I know that the sadness in your eyes is not just because of me. I've heard it in your voice the last few months and I've seen it in your eyes. I've seen the bruises Ana. No, don't talk, just listen to me. The light in your eyes has dimmed a bit. I don't want it to fade completely. Promise me that you will be true to yourself. Promise me that you will be happy and surround yourself with friends that will lift you up, encourage you and make you smile. My dear sweet flower, you have a wonderful life a head of you and you haven't begun to bloom. I love you so much my Ana."

What had her mother seen? What did she know? Ana couldn't stand the thought that her mother would die believing her only daughter was in an abusive relationship. She saw sorrow, pity, and something else in her mother's eyes. Was it shame? It was that conversation that led to her epiphany. Her mother and step father would be mortified and disappointed to know that their only child, their princess was essentially a sex slave. They had raised her to be confident, self assured, to respect her body, and to make smart choices. She certainly knew what love was and this _arrangement_ wasn't it, not by a long shot.

Ana needed a plan, a way out, a new start, a fresh start. At only 22, she knew that there was plenty of time to get it right, get her life back on track and to put this lapse in judgment behind her. She wondered how she allowed this to happen.

Ana had been a straight A student at the University, graduating with honors. Boys sought her out because she was beautiful, or least that is what she was told, and girls liked her for her honesty and loyalty. Though quiet and shy, her ready smile and thoughtfulness made her popular.

She had plenty of time to think while her mother lay in a morphine induced sleep. Her heart was heavy with pain of her impending loss. Carla wouldn't be there to see her marry and raise a family. That thought alone widened the gaping, aching hole in her chest. The shameful life she was living filled that hole with guilt and remorse. What would Carla and her step dad Ray think if they knew that she traded loveless, rough, demeaning sex for an allowance of 50,000 a month, expensive gifts and the hope that her _**Master**_ would some day return her love?. The jewelry alone was worth more than the home she was raised in. It didn't matter that she hadn't spent any of the money or worn the jewelry often. That too, was had been a reason for punishment. Ana had never been a materialistic girl, perusing fashion magazines but Master insisted on seeing her in Chanel and Prada. Once, she had arrived early for her Friday appointment. It was casual Friday at work, so she was in jeans and converse sneakers. Once in the playroom he had asked why she insisted on defying him at every turn. He'd spent thousands on improving her wardrobe only for her to disrespectfully show up in college era tee shirt and jeans. Those jeans were creatively incorporated into that weekend's punishment. Needless to say, he never saw her in jeans again. In her parent's eyes, she had failed them. She felt like a whore, no better than the girls working a corner. Her parents would share the burden of her choices and that thought had silent tears streaming down her face.

Some time during the early morning of the sixth day, Carla died. She simply exhaled one last time. Ray arrived while Ana was napping at her mother's bed side. She was inconsolable. Shaking so violently, her step dad feared she would break in two. His strong arms held the only child he had ever known as she cried for the loss of her mother, the future they would never have, and the girl who had lost her way.

She contacted Sir informing him of her mother's death and funeral arrangements. Why she felt compelled to inform him troubled her. Everything was on auto pilot. It was really a simple matter of confirming everything with the funeral home. Carla already made her wishes known so the only thing Ana had to do was set the day and time. Her benevolent Master agreed to give her another week without consequence. He was very generous. She would not be returning to that life. The only items in his penthouse in the clouds were purchased by him. She wanted nothing to remind her of the darkest time in her life. She could go back to her life, her friends, and maybe one day find the love she deserved. After all, she was recently promoted to senior editor at Seattle Independent Publishing. Her career was on the rise and she loved Seattle. In spite of the grief, she is hopeful.

The graveside service was simple but beautiful. Ana was surprised at the number of genuine friends Carla had. They were an eclectic bunch that called themselves 'The Bookends', all wearing the pink ribbon pins in support of their friend. They hugged Ana, held her hands, kissed her cheek or forehead, offering their support and spoke of the love they had for Carla. It was overwhelming. She suddenly felt a calming and reassuring hug from behind. She turned to look into the face of her best and oldest friend Kate Kavanaugh. She missed her friend, one that she had all but abandoned nearly 12 months ago. Even though they had barely spoken since she signed the contract, Kate had been the first person she'd called when her mom died. They didn't say much. They didn't need to. Kate listened as her friend cried over the phone and gave Ana comfort through her silence. And now she was here for her friend. Kate was leaving later in the day but they promised to have lunch next week. This was a promise Ana had every intention of keeping. "You better Steele" Kate huffed in true Kavanaugh fashion. "I promise Katie Kat" sniffed Ana. "It's been way too long." With a final wave Kate left for the airport.

Ana had a few plans for the next few days. She would have most meals with Ray until he returned home. She was so grateful he was there for her even though he and Carla had been divorced for ten years. Ana had to see about the house and Carla's business affairs. A knock on the door surprised her. It was only 8 AM but she had been awake for hours wallowing in grief and disgust. A gentleman dressed in true Savannah fashion, a light gray seersucker suit with a crisp white shirt complete with requisite white bow tie stood at her door. "Miss Steele, I am Luscious Fremantle esq., estate lawyer" he said offering his hand and a business card. Ana stammered, "yes, yes umm what can I do for you?" Well, I'm here to discuss your mothers' estate. I am so sorry for your loss. My wife and I were quite fond of Carla. Would you mind if I come in"? Luscious asked. "Of course Mr. Fremantle"'Ana said remembering her manners. Through the fog, she remembered her southern upbringing, Ana offered him coffee. She quickly returned to the stylish, comfortable living room with coffee and little cakes from one of the neighbors. She absently considered all of the food in the fridge and freezer. She would never eat it all in just a few days. Maybe Ray should just eat here instead of spending money at a restaurant.

"Now, Mr. Fremantle, what did you want to discuss with me"?

August 22, 2015

Ana sat nervously in Christian Grey's home office. This was the first time she paid attention to the well appointed space. With floor to ceiling windows and dark wood furniture, it was as imposing as the man himself. Christian was surprised and angry to find his favorite submissive waiting in his office uninvited. He would allow her leeway this once because she was still grieving.

Christian spoke quietly but with authority, "Anastasia, you know you are not allowed in this room without permission". I will forgive you this once. I am sorry for your loss. Death unfortunately does not discriminate. Is there is a reason you are not in your room awaiting my instruction"? It was said with calm, but a warning tone. He eyed his pet and played the scene he planned for them this evening in his mind. He would be gentle with her coaxing orgasm after orgasm to help her relax and relieve the stress from the last few weeks. He was a thoughtful Dom.

Iron clad resolve flowed through her blood. "Mr. Grey, she started softly yet firmly, "I am ending this arrangement. It is not for me. Thank you for the _opportunity_ , almost chocking on the word, to explore my sexuality. The lessons learned are unforgettable. I will of course honor our NDA and I wish you well." Ana had been looking just over the top of his head but now her gaze went to his eyes. For a moment the gray eyes she loved turned molten with the rage she had come to recognize. What she saw was surprise, anger and something else that caused her to momentarily shiver. "Again thank you for everything".

"Well Anastasia, I am very rarely surprised, but I did not see this coming "he said with a small smirk playing on his lips. His voice now dangerously low "You should reconsider Anastasia. We are good together. Do you need another weekend to get your mothers affairs in order? Is it the money? I can double your allowance if that is what it will take. Of course we will need to revisit your hard limits and increase the days you are here but it is doable." Christian was practically giddy at the possibility of finally claiming all of her.

"Mr. Grey", she said as she stood to leave, your offer is very generous but it is time for me to move on. Our time together has been...memorable. I've learned a lot about myself. Right now, I need to focus on me and my career".

"Thank you for everything". And with that she was out the door.

Christian was disappointed and saddened. He knew this day would come, in fact he was surprised his little pet had lasted this long. She claimed to be in love with him and he had taken full advantage of that, training her to be everything he wanted in a submissive. A virgin submissive was priceless and he appreciated her willingness to please him. She was not really a submissive though. He doubted she would ever return to his lifestyle. The gifts, the car, the money meant nothing to her. She wanted him and he had given all he had to offer. He would give his good friend Elena a call when he returned from Taiwan.

Ana longed for the return of normalcy. As promised, she had lunch with Kate filling her in on her failed relationship only alluding to it having been abusive, leaving out names. Kate was supportive. "Steele, I am so very sorry you had to go through that but I am proud of you. A lot of women don't leave and blame everything on themselves. Tell me his name and I'll make him scream for his mama"! They laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks. It felt good, a temporary reprieve from the misery that followed her.

They talked about their careers, friends, and families. Her job was going well and she was highly thought of at SIP. It felt good to not have to live in fear of crossing an imaginary line. Her days were filled with meeting new authors, lunch with friends, shopping with Kate and talking to Ray. She didn't date. She couldn't. What if she made another mistake? She certainly lacked the ability to make sound decisions when it came to men. Her nights were long and dark. Sleep, what there was of it, was tormented by nightmares. She would wake up screaming in agony from the lick of the cane, sometimes counting each time it hit her body. These nightmares would often morph into her mother turning away from her in tears. Ana would cry for hours holding her knees and slowly rock herself back to sleep. She was exhausted because she was afraid to go back to sleep.


	2. The Intervention

Anastasia was treading water, barley keeping afloat. Sixteen hour work days left eight hours to think, worry and remember. She was drowning. Drowning in pity, shame, and self loathing. So she worked longer, harder, worked out, did everything possible so that she could finally close her eyes in exhaustion. Logically she knew she needed to put that chapter behind her but every time she turned the page something would bring her back to the prologue and she would relive every sentence and paragraph all over again.

Ana hadn't seen Christian since she left his office in August and now it was almost Christmas.

Try as she might, she couldn't really pinpoint when their relationship morphed from a dream to a nightmare. Their initial meeting was in his office when she interviewed him on her roommate's behalf. Her curiosity piqued when he appeared at SIP shortly after she started. They'd shared coffee and a muffin but it was simply an innocuous, friendly encounter. It was after the Grey's annual 4th of July barbeque that their relationship began. Her best friend Kate was dating Elliot, Christian's brother and he invited her. The group enjoyed an afternoon of swimming, volleyball, burgers, and laughs. Near the end of the night, Christian discreetly caught Ana alone, telling her he would call.

The weeks that followed were amazing. He was charismatic and enchanting. They visited museums, attended concerts, dinners in some of the finest restaurants in the area. They traveled to Los Angeles, New York and her all time favorite London. The fact that they'd rarely left their hotel room didn't bother her at all. She toured London with Sawyer while Christian worked. He was not the gentle lover she'd imagined from the Victorian era novels, but he was generous in satisfying needs she didn't know existed. He explained his haphephobia and she understood. He explained away their clandestine relationship as a potential security risk and she understood. They had been seeing each other about six weeks when he explained the only relationship he could have long term. It frightened her and she did not understand. They visited the Red Room and like the devil tempting a saint, he pleasured her to the brink of seeing a bright light at the end of a very long dark tunnel. . He teased her about her stamina, carrying her to _her_ room, and reminding her of the required exercise routine. Two months after the Grey's barbeque, she signed the contract.

One Sunday before she left to go home, he told her he would begin training her to become a proper submissive. So it began. She practiced how to stand, kneel, hold her hands, and bow her head, to call him sir or master. It started with light spanking for minor infractions such as calling him Christian or attempting to explain when the only acceptable response was yes sir or no sir. It graduated to the crop. She was learning but there were so many rules to remember. Regardless, a session was always concluded with mind blowing orgasms.

Each session gradually became more intense. The playfulness was replaced with rigid rules, romance with dominance, making love with fucking, tender kisses with punishments, pillow talk with words that encouraged her submission. He wanted her submission and she did her best. More often than not it was all about her pleasure but there was no _making love_. He would lay with her in _her_ room until she fell asleep but convinced her it would be better if they slept apart. His sultry baritone poured soft and warm when she obeyed and when he spoke of the pleasure she brought him. Ana or (Miss Steele as he now called her) believed she was getting closer to making him love her. The changes were so subtle she hadn't noticed until she was in too deep. For him, she would endure the Red room sessions. She shook her head at the memory, not any closer to understanding how she allowed this to happen.

Kate, Jose, and Ethan were her constant life rafts but they were beginning to show wear. Kate knew a lot while the fellas only knew that their friend was a shell of her former self. They were good friends and she was grateful but she couldn't stand the looks her friends gave each other when they thought she wasn't looking. Ana began to withdraw.

The only time she felt like 'Ana' was at work. Here she was in her element. Getting immersed in the written word was an escape and she didn't have to think about the mess that was her life. Not only did she love discovering new literary works, she loved fostering relationships with new authors and delving into their creative process. The creative process was so different for each author and as unique as their stories. Some hand wrote detailed notes and kept file cards profiling characters, others wrote most of the story in their heads before committing anything to print. Most claimed that inspiration came from everyday things; a couple on a train, the barista at Starbucks, the cleaning lady, or FedEx man. Some authors might have several balls in the air turning out a best seller every nine months while others poured their life's blood on pages giving birth to a single child. Her days were filled with meetings, negotiations, editing manuscripts, courting new talent, and promoting SIP.

Her favorite author, an educator turned romance novelist, was working on a trilogy. No one outside of SIP knew that Alexis Andrews (a pseudonym) was in reality a fifty something petite bookworm with a husband of 20 plus years. Her books were filled with angst, romance, and sex; hot, steamy, unconventional, thigh clenching sex. No one seeing Alexis on the street would believe she could be the author of books that women around the world were talking about. She was beautiful and alluring, but her sex appeal was quiet, understated, and sophisticated much like the woman herself. She had a penchant for vintage Chanel and mile high stilettos.

Ana was in awe. Alexis had an easy, unassuming way that drew young Ana to her. Alexis didn't have children of her own and loved her like a daughter. Before she'd become a world renown author, she was a high school English teacher and guidance councilor. She could read students as well as her worn out copies of the English classics. Ana was always friendly with an easy welcoming laugh but something was troubling the young woman in front of her. She was bright and clever no doubt, but something wasn't quite right. Alexis was aware that Ana had recently lost her mother. The pain was evident. She never mentioned weekends dancing or shopping or any of the things young people are supposed to talk about. The famous author had even offered to set her up with her nephew, a nice young lawyer. Ana turned her down quickly, stating she didn't have the time, so Alexis let it go, for now.

Ana, the rising star of Seattle Independent Publishing, was good and worked tirelessly, never enough hours in the day she mused. But the nights, even the few hours she was alone were endless.

There were times when she thought she might have a story to tell. The dilemma …... she had a beginning and middle but couldn't for the life of her imagine a happy ending.

December 2015

After weeks of begging, cajoling, scheming, and finally kidnapping, the four musketeers were in a neighborhood bar enjoying a rare Friday night out on the town. Ethan conveniently _borrowed_ Ana's car and hadn't returned it in time, leaving Kate to drive Ana to work and pick her up, leading to Kate insisting on Ana repaying her with dinner at a new local restaurant, where the ambush was revealed when Ethan and Jose magically appeared. "I don't suppose this is a coincidence that we are all together tonight is it" Ana sighed as realization dawned.

The other three looked sheepishly to each other and then to Ana. "Ethan, the newly minted Doctor of Psychology, was the first to speak. Unapologetically he started, "look Ana, we are your friends, we love you and we are concerned. I don't know what happened about after graduation, but some how the girl we love is fading. All you have is your work. You've done well don't get me wrong but that's all you have. Look at you; do you even weight 100 pounds? We rarely see you unless we show up at the office with lunch or drag you away to the occasional brunch. Even when you are with us, you're not present."

This time Kate spoke up, "sweetie, if this is because of that asswipe, you have to move on. I am so sorry that your first love hurt you physically and emotionally, but it's not your fault. If you keep this up and continue doing this to yourself, he will win. Is that what you want? I am more than willing to help you seek revenge if it will help you put this behind you".

Ethan and Jose exchanged looks over the heads of Ana and Kate as the words sunk in. This was news to them. Kate and Ana might have been frightened by the anger and resolve shown in their eyes. Quietly, almost in a whisper, Jose said "Ana, someone beat you"? He felt as if he was being strangled. How could anyone think to hurt his life long friend? "I thought this was about a Carla or a relationship gone badly but I never considered the possibility of someone putting his hands on you that way. "Who was it Ana? You never talked about anyone, but then again we haven't seen much of you. Do we know him?"

Hearing the pain in his voice, Ana finally looked into Jose's eyes. They were full with unshed tears and it further broke her heart. This is what she was doing to everyone she loved, hurting them. What would they think of sweet Ana if they knew that she, at least for a short time had practiced BDSM, that she had given her virginity to her Master, or that she had negotiated the terms and provided a list of degrading acts he could perform, not once but four times? No, she would take that secret to her grave. Soon it would be too much and they would leave her all alone for good.

Placing both hands flat on the table, she stood to leave and three strong sets of hands pulled her back to her seat. So quietly, the group had to strain to hear her she whispered "it's my fault, I let him, and I thought he would love me. Now I feel so stupid and foolish". A jumble of responses came from the group as they all tried to say no Ana; no one has the right to raise a hand to a woman. We've all done some stupid shit in the name of love. Have you ever heard the term "crazy in love"?

They didn't understand and she couldn't risk explaining the true nature of her relationship with her Master. Instead she pulled her shoulders straight and looked them in the eye. What she saw, no felt, was strength born of love and they were giving it to her. For the first time since her mother's funeral some of the weight lifted from her shoulders. A small smile played at her lips and then a full on laugh erupted. Her friends thought maybe she had finally gone mad. When she calmed down and got herself under control, raising her head to her support system, "Wow" she said, admiring the beauty in front of her, "I had forgotten what I have in the three of you". You are right, I haven't been the same since mom died but its more than that. I'm not ready to talk about it but I will be fine. Thank you for this, waving her hands around the group, intervention".

Ethan produced a business card handing it to Ana. "Banana, we are too close, but I think you should talk to someone. This is a colleague, mostly relationship and family counseling, but I think you will like her. Ana took the card with thanks. Smiling timidly, she said, "Let's get out of here!" First round is on me!

They didn't notice the man at the bar that had been quietly watching the group Ana in particular.

 **A/N THANK YOU FOR YOUR WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT MY FIRST TIME OUT THE GATE. I APPRECIATE ALL FEED BACK. IT MEANS YOU TOOK TIME TO READ MY STORY.**

\- 4 -


	3. The Familiar Stranger

**A/N Thank you so much for reading my story. My nerves get the better of me everytime I post a chapter but y'all have been so kind. This is Ana's story but of course Christian will continue to be critical to the story line. There will be revelations and realizations for both. Thank you for your patience. I take my inspiration from all the awesome FF writers and of course E.L. James**

 **? POV**

There was just something about her he wanted to protect. She was beautiful, not doubt, but there was something ' more' about her he wanted to know. She was always kind to him and he sensed a gentle, loving spirit. A few months after their final encounter, she looked thinner, more frail, and still trying to insure those around her were comfortable. From his vantage point at the bar, the friends were having an intense conversation. Ana was clearly in distress, but there was nothing he could do. So he waited for what seemed like hours until the group embraced and he could see them all relax again.

The familiar stranger silently watched the friends' departure from the restaurant. In truth he had been observing Ana for a while. It wasn't constant, but he liked to keep an eye on her and her surroundings. When in town, he would check on Anastasia; nothing obvious. It was a routine check on windows, doors, neighbors, and an overall canvas of her office and home.

On more than one occasion, he'd heard her muffled cries from her room. He didn't understand their "relationship", but who was he to judge. He'd done some crazy shit for the love of a woman. He'd discussed the situation with Taylor. Even the ever stoic head of security intimated that this arrangement started out differently but eventually changed.

He never enjoyed working for Grey and considered him a petulant, arrogant asshole. It wasn't until a particularly nasty confrontation with the boss over some bullshit in the late spring of 2015 that he quit. He didn't like working with an ill tempered five year old, constantly demanding and too full of his own self worth to show gratitude or consideration. He didn't need the money or the attitude from the self absorbed, egomaniacal billionaire. He just didn't like Grey or the he way treated people in general. From what he was told, Miss Steele ended the relationship later that summer while he was out of the country. For some unknown reason, he was relieved.

Before moving to Seattle, he worked special security for a few international agencies and companies that could make GEH look like a mom and pop corner store. His clients were grateful and appreciative. He was very good at his job and had a 'particular set of skills' that would make Liam Neeson bow out of a fight.

Invisibility was crucial in his line of work. Years of working undercover taught him how to move with the shadows, to listen to what was said and not said but most importantly, awareness of his surroundings. One misstep and he was a dead man. Currently, he worked when and where he wanted, choosing his clients and jobs that met his strict moral code. So one night a few weeks ago he nearly saw his life pass before his eyes when he heard the unmistakable click of a small caliber pistol behind his ear. Well, maybe he wasn't as good as he thought. While calculating his odds, the voice spoke, "why are you spying on my little girl?" The stalker had been stalked.

That is how he and Ray Steele ended up in a dive bar outside of Seattle. Without exception, it was one of the most difficult conversations either man had ever had. Silence ensued as both men battled for dominance and how to begin. Ray spoke first, "are you the man that's been beating my daughter"?

Ray still found it difficult to believe that his baby had been hurt at the hands of a man. Carla was adamant in her speculation and begged Ray find out what was going on? The father in him couldn't bring himself to ask his daughter fearing the question would damage the fiber of their relationship. What would he say? So Ana, have you been tied up lately? How the hell do you casually work _that_ into a conversation over fishing or restoring furniture? He instead decided to observe from afar. Nothing, he could find absolutely nothing, that is until one day he noticed some one also watching. So, Ray watched the watcher. Now he needed answers.

Ray recognized a fellow soldier, an officer maybe, when he saw one and he could see the wheels turning as to what and how much he could say. He gave the younger man time to gather his thoughts.

"First of all sir", the fellow Marine began, "I've never laid a hand on your daughter". I met her when I worked for her former _boyfriend._ He hired me to keep her safe while they were together." that was close enough to the truth and he thought it might pacify the worried father.

Wrong…..

Ray was outraged. "Keep her safe?" he yelled. " Who kept her safe from him and who is he? If he hired you, he has to be wealthy. Is he married, high profile; a politician maybe?"

"Sir" the Captain deferred, "I am not at liberty to provide that information. I can tell you that they have not been involved for sometime and I am no longer in his employ. I do still look after her when I can. I want her safe. While I worked for my former employer, I was in frequent contact with Miss Steele and came to think of her as a younger sister. No one was happier than I when she broke up with him and moved on. If you want more information, you'll have to ask her."

Ray rubbed his hands across his face, knowing he wouldn't get his drinking companion to add anything further. He stared intently into the eyes of the younger man before he finally spoke. "Look son, you can't imagine what it's like to watch your only child hurt and not be able to fix it. Not only is she dealing with the loss of her mother but...I don't even know if there is anything I could do that wouldn't alienate her. I remember what it's like to be young and in love. I just need her to be safe and appreciated. I love her; I would _**die**_ for her; she is my _**everything**_. Legally she's a grown woman, but she will _always_ be my little girl."

Some of the tension dissipated. Reluctantly, he thanked the young man for looking after his daughter once he was assured that he would get a regular update. He didn't like spying on his daughter and he wasn't really. Ray wasn't looking for a daily report; he just wanted to be aware. They continued sipping their drinks a little while longer before exchanging numbers and going their separate ways.

Tonight and for the foreseeable future, his time was his on. He followed stealthily behind the group as they made their way to Fifty's Bar. Once again, he stood in the shadows considering his next move. An hour later the group was on the dance floor so he made his way to the men's room. He looked in the mirror and wondered again why he was still in the bar and what did he hope to happen? Opening the door, fate answered.

Teetering slightly, Ana collided with a wall of muscle. More than a little tipsy, she giggled and offered an apology into the chest of the man before her. Looking up, it took a moment for her eyes to focus on the familiar stranger. The affect of the alcohol dissipated immediately and she literally backed into a corner. There was no where to go. She was simultaneously shocked, worried, embarrassed. This man knew her secrets and they needed to stay buried. Yep, back to page one she mused.

"Luke what are you doing here and are you alone?" Ana managed to choke out. She was beginning to panic. Luke reached out intending to calm, but she flinched and tried to make herself smaller. "Hi Ana, it's good to see you and yes I'm all alone" he winked aiming for nonchalance and humor, missing the mark by a mile.

Ana was immediately offended by the wink, reading something completely different. She blushed and squared her shoulders in indignation, "What do you want Luke, are you just like your boss? Please just go. I need you to move Luke please" she was practically begging.

Luke stood perfectly still, not believing what he heard. "Ana, I'm sorry, I would never treat you or anyone like that. I'm genuinely happy to see you" he replied holding his hands up in a surrender position.

Ana felt like an idiot. Of course he wasn't like that. He'd always treated her kindly. Jeez, she really did need help. It was her turn to apologize. "It's okay Luke. I should be apologizing to you. Let's blame it on the alcohol. Do you mind if we go back out to the bar, I'm feeling a little claustrophobic"?

\- 3 -


	4. Cecelia Townsend , Some Sound Advice

Flash back

I promised to introduce you to my world Anastasia. Are you ready?  
Please stand and move over to the cross. Ana gracefully moved to the cross head bowed. Christian ran his hands down her body starting at her cheek, down her throat, pausing at her breasts to tweak her nipples before he continued to the apex of her thighs. "Mighty fine Miss Steele" he murmured as he inhaled deeply while attaching one arm then the other to the cross. He made quick work of securing her ankles to the bottom. Curiously, she noticed that the cross has been adjusted so that the beams crossed near her shoulders, leaving her lower back and ass more exposed. In addition to that her legs were spread farther apart. Had she not had the cross for support it would have been a nearly impossible position to hold?

Christian began talking again. His breath hitched as he began explaining tonight's lessons, excitement cursing through his veins. Anastasia he purred, "This will be a two for one lesson. We will begin with orgasm control. If you cannot control it you will be punished. When you are punished, you must hold still and keep quiet. Do you understand?" "Yes sir" she replied looking at the floor. Okay the lets begin.

Christian already had his tools of choice prepared. Pulling aside her thong, He lubed a bullet shaped vibrator and inserted it in her vagina replacing the thong to hold the toy firmly in place. The remote was between his thumb and forefinger. He tested it once and watched her jerk as the toy hummed through her body.

"Now that I have your full attention Anastasia, let's play". With the soft suede flogger in one hand and the remote in the other, the lesson began. He started by running the flogger down the sides of her breasts occasionally flicking her pebbled nipples. Stroke, flick, stroke flick, breast, inside thigh, ass, clit. Her breath quickened, pink flush covered her from head to toe. Stroke, flick, nipples, feet, clit. "Very good Anastasia just breathe thru it", he coached. She could feel herself building and he hadn't touched her with his hands or mouth. When he pressed the button on the remote, her vaginal walls clenched and her juices ran down her leg. "Do not cum Anastasia. You do not have permission and we are just beginning", her Master reminded her. He moved the button up a notch and her body began to sing. She threw her head back and bit her lip in an attempt to stay the impending orgasm but when he started the gentle flicks of the flogger over her sensitive nipples, thighs and clit, she was lost. She came violently on the cross just as he knew she would. "Oh Anastasia, naughty, naughty girl. You came _and_ without permission", he admonished.

Ana was crying silently, head bowed. Later she would consider the humiliation of cumming from a flogger and vibrator; his firm hands and talented mouth had always been her undoing. At this moment she could hear the disdain and disappointment in her master's voice. "I think you will have to be punished for this indiscretion. Eight licks with my palm; you will stay still, you will count, and thank me for my patience" he boomed.

Whack, "one. thank you master" she whispered. "Thank me for what Anastasia". Whack two. thank you for your patience master. No Anastasia, that was one since you didn't do it correctly now start over. Whack, even harder this time. One; Thank you for your patience master, whack, two; thank you for your patience, six, seven, eight, thank you for your patience master. Her breathing was heavy, tears streamed down her red cheeks, silently sobbing, and ass throbbing. "Anastasia, again I am disappointed. You seem to enjoy defying me. Your orgasms are mine to give not yours to take. Now let's start again."

We'll start more slowly. This time he stood just to her left and whispered in her ear, just breath, flick stoke, stroke, stroke, flick, just breathe, nipples, clit, side breast, inner thigh, hum of the vibrator. He watched as she was close to another orgasm and just before she reached the pinnacle he stopped and coached her to breathe thru it. The moment passed and he praised her. Good girl Anastasia. He ran his fingers thru her hair and kissed her temple.

Sometime later, which included additional punishments, he allowed her to have the most intense orgasm of her life with a combination of the flogger and the vibrator on high. Her mind shattering, body jerked, back arched as her body reacted to an electrifying spasm. She was able to delay the orgasm for nearly an hour. After hours of an excruciating play session of starts, stops, and start overs, she was released from the cross. Ana all but fell to her knees, her body sweaty and flushed, hair plastered to her head and neck.

'Now, Miss Steele, I want you to show your appreciation, suck me until I tell you to stop then I will fuck you from behind. You will not find your release until I command.'

Christian ran a warm bath for her. As he massaged her shoulders and legs, he dissected their training session, reinforcing all that he was doing for her and what he was giving up due to her inexperience. She was grateful that he was such a willing teacher. He must love her.

Ana was so exhausted she didn't notice that he didn't sleep with her that night.

Present day January 2016

Ana was lost in a memory, waiting in her office for her friend and mentor. She kept busy setting up the tea service and little cakes when a gentle knock announced the arrival of her guest.

Good morning Ana" the older woman greeted. "I am so happy to see you. How were your holidays? After a few minutes of holiday and vacation chit chat, the atmosphere was more relaxed.

Ana had been staring at the calming seas in the painting just over the head of Alexis Andrews, a pseudonym for Cecelia Townsend. Not a ship or coast line in sight, just gentle, waves reflecting the moonlight over the Peugeot sound, silver on blue. The artwork allowed her to relax slightly as she moved her eyes to meet those of her good friend. It had taken her a few weeks to take Ethan's advice. As much as she valued the opinions of her friends, it was an unexpected encounter with her past that helped her get here. She shook off the memory and gave her full attention to Cecelia. Ana took a deep breath, a leap of faith and began her journey towards reclaiming her life.

Cecelia recognized anxiety radiating from her young friend and considered why they were meeting on a Saturday afternoon, in her office. "Ana, is everything all right? Has something happened to Ray?" Something was obviously going on.

Ana had spent the last few weeks considering making an appointment with Ethan's friend. Ultimately, she just wasn't ready to see an "expensive charlatan". Cecelia had written a three book fictionalized series that featured BDSM. The three books, Bound, Chains, and Unbroken had been on the NY Times best seller list for five years. The movie rights for series were under contract. She thought Cecelia might be able to give her some insight.

Donning her professional face and flashing a smile she dove in. "Cecelia, Thank you so much for meeting me today. I know it's the weekend but I wanted to talk to you in private. I trust you to keep this between us. No, this doesn't have anything to do with Ray. He's fine"

Now curious, the older woman nodded for Ana to continue.

Ana was now wrestling as how to proceed. "How did you decide on the topic of BDSM for your books?"

Well that was unexpected Cecelia thought. Of all the topics that could have been troubling her young friend, this never entered her mind. Then she remembered all the times Ana had appeared withdrawn, or unwilling to discuss her social life, or absentmindedly rubbed her wrists. The signs were there and she missed them. Time to rip off the band aide.

Looking Ana straight in the eye, leaning forward, a smirk playing on her lips, Cecelia began, "Since this is just between us girls, it's partly autobiographical. She winked and waited for it to sink in."

To say she was shocked was an understatement. Her mouth opened and closed and opened and closed and nothing came out. How could that be!? Ana thought. She looks so….normal.

"Don't look so surprised Miss Steele. I may be fifty seven now, but I wasn't always. My husband and I are…adventurous, Oh, he doesn't suspend me from the ceiling but we do enjoy our fair share of kink; you know restraints, blindfolds, and lots and lots of toys. Before we moved to the city, we had a 'fun room' in our home, complete with a St. Andrews Cross and a sex swing. BDSM may not fit within societal norms but between consenting, willing adults it can be most satisfying. What we enjoy is our business. Why do you ask Anastasia?"

Not quite two years ago my only introduction to the romantic kind of love was thru books and Disney movies, Ana spoke with a smile in her voice. It's not like I didn't date but nothing serious. Boys just never held my interest. One day I met a man, letting out a deep sigh she continued, tears threatening as she remembered the early days with Christian before he became her master. I could not believe that someone like him would be interested in mousey little Anastasia from small town USA. I hadn't even graduated from college, let alone traveled, or experienced anything really. Just being in his presence made me feel things, I felt alive for the first time. We began to spend time together and I only realized later that it was private, behind closed doors so to speak. We went out, but he always rented the entire venue or at least we had a private booth away from peering eyes. He explained his need for privacy and I thought it was romantic. As the weeks went on, our dates slowed but not amount of time we spent together. It was so gradual, I didn't notice. Where the sex had been tender, it became rougher, painful. He would compliment me on my ability to satisfy him.

Ana went back to staring at the painting, unable to look the best selling author in the eye.  
Probably six weeks after our relationship began; he opened up to me about the lifestyle he'd kept secret. He was a dominant in search of a submissive. He said I was born for it. At first I was surprised, then disappointed. He let me know that it was about trust, reward, and punishment. She could hear him purring in her ear, "Don't you want to please me Anastasia? I can take you places you've never dreamed of". By then I was so in love with him I didn't know what to do and I was afraid of losing him. There was a contract listing sexual acts I'd never heard of let alone tried. He patiently explained that I had indeed experienced more than a few with him and enjoyed them.

"Anyway" she continued "we were together just a little over a year, most of it in a BDSM relationship. I was his sub. Most of the time the sex was amazing, I never thought it could be like that'.

'You said most of the time Ana", the Cecelia prodded. What about the other times?

Ana bowed her head, twisting her fingers, not wanting to remember the other times.

"There were times he was cruel. Not often, but he could turn pleasure to pain on a dime. He was so mercurial; unpredictable."

Cecelia sat thoughtfully across from the young woman. What Ana needed more than anything was a sounding board and that, she could provide. "Ana, you were with him for over a year. Why did you stay?

This is the question she'd asked herself a thousand times. The answer was simple and complicated. "I loved him"

"Mmm, I see. But why did you love him Ana?" Cecelia continued to probe. Was your love reciprocated, did he ever tell you he loved you"? Did you enjoy spending time together with friends and family, what was it that made you love him?

And this is where it became complicated for her but she attempted to make her friend understand or perhaps convince herself. "In the beginning, he was so kind and loving. I could sense the man behind the armor. Our relationship was private. No one knew. I signed a Non-disclosure Agreement. I thought if I just stuck with it, and became everything he needed, he would love me too". That even sounded weak to her. "Did he profess his love, she continued. No but I felt it. He said he didn't have a heart but I know he does. He only said he cared for me"

Cecelia raised an eyebrow questioningly but let it go for now. "Why did it end?

Inhaling deeply, Ana forged ahead. If felt good to unburden herself. "My mother died. She assumed I was in an abusive relationship. She mentioned something about bruises. My mother just wanted me to be happy. We had only recently reconciled. "

"You didn't always get along?" Cecelia asked.

"Let me start at the beginning, Ana suggested. "I had a fairly typical upbringing; an only child; a product of the 90's, you know marriage, divorce, marriage, divorce, marriage. My mom couldn't make up her mind. There just seemed to be a lot of fighting about everything from cooking, cleaning, to money. I wanted everyone to be happy so I stepped up and took over a lot of it from an early age. I worked so hard to make sure there wasn't anything to cause discord but nothing worked," Ana recounted as if it was yesterday.

"I went back to live with Ray, my step dad, in my early teens. I loved my mom but she and husband number three were in the honeymoon phase and I was in the way. My mom and I had a difficult relationship most of my teenage years. We reconciled a few years before she died" a sad look crossed her face. "Ray worked tirelessly to provide all our needs so made sure that the house was clean, clothes washed and I never, never caused any problems. I just couldn't bare it if he were disappointed in me. I fear that I may have let my mother down.

It ended because I realized I had lost my way, lost me in my quest to win him. Some of the things we did left me feeling degraded and disgusted. I never dreamed I would let someone…..she drifted off unwilled to reveal more. My last conversation with mom was the catalyst to get me moving ahead. I'm just so ashamed and I feel so foolish.

"You're angry Ana", her friend surmised.

Ana stood up abruptly and began to pace. You're damn straight I'm angry. I allowed a man who doesn't love me, will never love me fuck and beat me. I allowed him to do unspeakable things to my body. I was a virgin for Christ's sake. He knew I was in love with him, that I was inexperienced and he used that against me. So hell yes I'm angry; with me for allowing it and for him…just being him.

"Ana, I want you to think about a few things. First, you are a stunning, highly intelligent young woman. Your parents, no matter what your choices will always love you. Any man would be proud to have you on his arm. Now, if you hadn't had that conversation with your mother, how much longer would you have stayed in an unsatisfying relationship? If he had come to love you, would you have been happy in a BDSM based sexual relationship for the rest of your life? If you had married him, would it have been fair to him to find out you didn't enjoy his life style?

"You are a beautiful young woman. I am sorry your first intimate relationship was overwhelming and has left you unhappy and unfulfilled. I was in my late twenties when I met my husband and experienced enough to what I liked and didn't like. We are equal partners in the bedroom and out of it.'

I don't know your young man, but I think if he had been up front with you, we might be having a completely different conversation. Perhaps he intentionally mislead you, encouraged your affection; we'll never know. I did a lot of research for my books, speaking with experienced Dominants and Submissives. The common thread among those in the life is that a good Dom can read the comfort level of the sub. They are in tune to not just vocal cues, but what the body is saying. If you were uncomfortable, a good Dom would know and talk you through it. That is the responsibility he assumes. Let me send you the link to a couple of articles. You can also google BDSM, BDSM vs. Abuse, and BDSM and coercion. One of them actually references the main character from a popular erotica series. I think your young man may have employed some coercive techniques, intentional or not.

This is just my opinion of course. Ultimately Anastasia, you could have walked at any time. Having said that sweet girl, don't let this define you. I challenge you to find a living soul that hasn't made a regrettable decision or two in the name off love. You will make more mistakes and questionable choices. It's inevitable. Next time you will be smarter."

"Do want to know what I think Ana?"

The young woman nodded through her tears.

"You are a pleaser and a fixer and you avoid confrontation."

Ana looked up as she considered the older woman's words.

You attempted to fix the broken relationship between your parents, you worked hard to not disappoint your father, I'd wager you are the mediator amongst your friends, and lastly you tried to fix your Dom, who incidentally, probably doesn't think he needs fixing. That's a heavy load for such petite shoulders. Take some advice from someone who's been there/done that. Be your own best friend Ana. It's okay to say no. Anyone who asks you to compromise the essence of you, does not have your best interest. I want you to Google 'Sub Drop' and see if you are experiencing any of those symptoms. That might have a lot to do with your depression and fatigue.

"How do I get over this feeling, how do I move on"? Ana wondered out loud.

Cecelia laughed out loud. "Oh my dear Ana, You just do. You get up every morning, you go to work, you take a class, enjoy your life and everyday this boulder you carry will become a rock, then a pebble, and finally dust. I promise you that one day you'll look back on this time and it will no longer cause you pain."

Reaching into her purse, she handed Ana a beautiful leather bound portfolio. "Here, I got this for you for Christmas. It's from Milan. Why don't you use it to keep track of your thoughts? Write down moments you become angry or morose and why; if you have a nightmare, include that. I've done this for years and included poems and songs that held a meaning at the time. You might even consider making pro/con lists of what you liked and didnt like about sex. It might help you with your next relationship. There might even be a book in there. Maybe you could take your anger out with pen and paper." Both women chuckled.

Ana noticed that they had been talking most of the afternoon. Cecelia, thank you so much for visiting with me. "I can't imagine getting involved with anyone right now but I am beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel . Writing in the journal might help when I can't sleep. She wrapped her friend in loving hug as they said their good byes.

"Call me anytime Ana. In fact, let's make plans to have a monthly lunch date just for girl talk. I would be so proud if you were my daughter."


	5. Christian Grey

**Flynn POV**

John Flynn sat in his office, eyes closed, lights dimmed, rubbing his temples. He reached for the fine Talisker Scotch he kept in his desk, a gift from his last patient for the day. Ironic really because he didn't usually drink hard liquor, but more often than not, he needed something to calm him after a session with Christian Grey. At this rate he would need a therapist himself. Today was no exception. For an hour, he kept his frustration in check not wanting to alienate him. Christian refused any suggestions for Solution Based Therapy (SBT), touch therapy, or anger management.

He knew that Grey only had one _friend,_ who was really no friend at all. Flynn started working with Christian six years ago and had yet to break through the barrier that kept his troubled patient in chains. In laymen's terms, Christian suffered from a fear of being touched and a fear of abandonment. Those conditions manifested in a rage which on a good day, simmered just below the surface. For nearly two thirds of his life, Christian had been used, abused, and manipulated. The doctor realized early on, that the manipulation was on going, but that was a argument his patient adamantly refused to entertain. In order to break the chains, Christian would have to accept that he was a victim; that he didn't have control over what happened, that he was not inherently a _bad person._

His patient hated himself, his birth mother, and the circumstance of his birth. It prevented him from being touched, figuratively and literally. Elena bitch Lincoln was no better than the pimps that abused an innocent child. Christian did not have a close relationship with his family; friends were non existent. As a consequence of his self loathing, he became an island with a sharp and brittle coastline.

In his attempt to control all things, he'd backed himself into a corner. The man was brilliant, having amassed a fortune rivaling the GNP of some countries but emotionally he was still four years old; his temper tantrums were legendary.

Flynn had many concerns, not the least of which was the _way and the why_ Christian practiced BDSM. As a professional therapist, he was more than familiar with alternative sexual preferences. The practice itself was enjoyed by millions of happy, well adjusted people around the world. Christian however, blurred the lines frequently as evidenced by recent list of submissives leaving after only a few weeks. Flynn feared he was escalating. Something changed a few months ago, he just didn't know what. He had taken things too far on more than one occasion; lost in the fantasy of punishing his dead mother. It was only the terms of the contract and his bank account that had saved him so far. When the doctor broached the subject of perhaps observing other couples at private BDSM clubs or talking with other practitioners, Grey stated "This has been my life for nearly fifteen years. I know what I'm doing. I had a great Domme as a teacher. It was good enough for me, it's good enough for them" and stormed out of the office. And _**THAT**_ was the crux of the problem. Where Grace was his angel, Elena was the second coming.

Flynn's current strategy was to help Christian see the good in himself, that he did indeed have a heart. For the last few sessions, he started planting seeds reminding him of his programs to house and feed the less fortunate, establishing scholarships, building hospital wings, and parks. Hopefully they would flower.

 **CPOV**

Christian Grey considered himself a complicated man. He relished the dichotomy he presented, ruthless businessman versus generous philanthropist. Ruthless abso-fuckin-lutely, generous philanthropist, sort of. He gave to soften the image of his boardroom persona. It was a brilliant tactic. It started when his adoptive mother requested his support for the family foundation Coping Together. He appreciated the effort Grace exerted to aid children and their drug addicted parents but if was a constant reminder of his past. The donation was so well received by the media; companies started clambering to do business with him. Thus, his philanthropy was born with the end result being an increase in his bottom line. _He considered the thousands that benefited from housing, educational programs, and the farming initiatives he funded as just good business_. He didn't have a heart.

Christian worked hard, long, arduous, days in the office, evenings in the gym, and weekends in his playroom. His employees, some of the best in the world expected to be micro- managed. Therefore they learned to anticipate questions and were thoroughly prepared. God help the poor soul who forgot to cross a T. The rewards were so far above his staffs expectations; a missed birthday or anniversary was readily forgiven. Christian learned long ago, everybody had a price. It was a lesson learned from his birth mother who sold her soul and body for a fix. _His employees however were loyal to Christian and GEH because of his_ _fairness, intelligence, liberal compensation, benefits, and paid emergency leave_. Again, it was just good business.

The first four years of his life formed who he was today. Somewhere in his toddler mind he knew he would escape his circumstance of living with evil. He knew he would become something great. There had to be something better on the horizon to offset his suffering; kind of like paying it forward. He told himself daily he deserved his wealth and accomplishments. His adoptive family treated him with love and devotion but he never really had time for them; his eye was on the prize _. Except….his mother and sister wanted_ _for nothing._ The reality that crept into his soul was that he never felt worthy.

Impatient for his real life to begin, he was a sullen, difficult teenager, with raging hormones, unwilling to interact with family or classmates and an inability to be touched. Enter Elena Lincoln. She taught him control. While the lessons had been harsh, the rewards were well worth it. He found release from the sexual tension and rage surging through his veins. Six years later, he turned the tide on her and he topped her from the bottom becoming her Dom. Without explanation, he ended their sexual relationship and moved on to younger, more attractive women.

Christian enjoyed his contractual relationships because he craved control and to reinforce what his birth mother and Elena taught him. All women were whores and would do anything for a price. He was a generous Dom, providing incentives based on the acts his submissives were willing to perform. The more deviant the act, the greater the reward. It was a sliding scale but they were able to keep everything as a parting gift. He refused the notion of "fear of abandonment" as the reason for participating in BDSM and not going a more traditional route. Instead he convinced himself that he was a selfish bastard. It was all about Christian fucking Grey. It was about his pleasure not theirs. Oh he gave as good as he got, but again, as in business, one has to give a little to get a lot. _He enjoyed his solitude_.

The only time he came close to developing feelings for one of his whores was with Anastasia Steele. He was her first in every way and in some ways she was his. He considered having more traditional relationship with her, one that combined his needs with her wants. Taking her on dates and vacations had been his way of testing the waters and damn if he hadn't enjoyed it. She was different; kind, thoughtful, full of life and innocence, with a quirky sense of humor. Thank goodness he came to his senses and decided to make her a submissive. She was destroying his well ordered world.

Instead, he thought of all the delicious ways he could train a _**virgin Submissive**_.

The things Anastasia had allowed him to do to her had a tent growing in his pants at the memory. A virgin submissive, his one and only pet to train for his enjoyment. She was perfect and he felt zero guilt _(who was he trying to convince_ ) in using her 'so called love' to his advantage. Elena had done the same for him and look at him now; The Master of his Universe. _That's the story he told himself when he allowed her memory to invade his consciousness._

It surprised him and caused him a moment of panic when she ended their relationship and was further shocked when she refused his offer of additional financial incentive to stay. Not only that, but she left everything behind; the car, the electronics, the clothes, the jewelry. She even made a donation to a GEH charity of all the money he gave her. He wanted her to stay because, because, because….he cared for her.

In the wee small hours of the morning when sleep would elude him, sitting at his piano, bourbon in hand, he would remind himself that he didn't need anyone and no one needed _him_. He would repeat his mantra, 'you are cold bastard of a whore who neither wanted you nor cared for you. No one wants you. You are a monster. You came into this world alone and you will die alone." Damn that Flynn, I am not a good man. There is nothing good in me.

Lately, those words began burn in his chest like the pimps cigarettes against his tender flesh.

 **February 14, 2016**

Ana was feeling like her old self. Cecelia kept her word and they met every Saturday her schedule would permit. She was a Godsend, filling in where Carla left off. Tonight, Luke was coming over for homemade Pizza and cheesecake brownies. Kate and Elliot and Jose and Ethan were enjoying a romantic Valentines evening.

In some ways, Luke saved her or at least held a mirror up to her face. "Ana, do you really think you are the first woman to get more than she bargained for?" She finally got it and accepted responsibility for her actions. She would be forever grateful for the conversation she'd had with Carla. It was the push she needed to get out of that toxic arrangement.

Writing in the journal was an exorcism, casting out the self loathing that consumed her. She vacillated between being angry with Christian and herself. At the end of the day, it was about owning decisions, mistakes, learning from them, and moving on. Period!

Luke burst through the door, all six foot four of him, almost too long blonde hair, green eyes, full of jokes and imported beer. They had become great friends in such a short time. She was initially embarrassed to be in his company. He knew everything and had probably witnessed more than she wanted to think about. Perhaps because he knew everything, she could talk with him in a way that she just couldn't and wouldn't talk with Kate. She appreciated his protective nature, even understanding, sort of, how he'd met Ray. Under different circumstances, it would have been hilarious. She could imagine her Dad sneaking up behind Luke and scaring the shit out of him. It made her heart swell to know she had these two men in her corner.

Luke was never forthcoming about his job. "If I tell you, I'll have to kill you" He said wiggling his eyebrows. He would disappear for days at a time without any warning only to show up unannounced just as mysteriously.

Tonight, they were just two friends enjoying dinner and a movie. They were lounging on the comfortable cushions placed on the floor. "So, Anastasia Rose, what movie are you torturing me with tonight? Is it at least in color?" Ana giggled. She had a penchant for old black and white films, especially Ingrid Bergman. "Tonight Lucas Andrew, you are in for a real treat. Ta Da, Casablanca ". Her eyes shone with mischief and delight.

Luke groaned, "Ana, Ana, can't we at least watch something from the nineties "

Sighing, "Okay Lukie, you can choose the next one". That earned her another groan.

By the end of the movie, Ana was holding his hand, fighting back tears as Bogie and Ingrid said their goodbyes. Whether it was the beer, the wine, or the movie, Ana and Luke instinctively leaned in for a kiss. They both pulled back startled at what had just occurred. For what seemed like an hour or a year, they just stared at each other. Ana broke the silence first. "Well that was like kissing my brother. They fell into a fit of laughter. "I'm wounded" Luke choked out.

She playfully slapped his arm, "can I get you another beer?" Yeah, one more then I need to call it a night. I've been on a plane for 24 hours" Ana raised an eyebrow wanting to ask, but didn't . Are you going to stay here, your room is all set up."?

"Thanks Ana, I do not feel like driving across town", he yawn talked.

Over pancakes and bacon the next morning, Ana contemplated sharing her news with Luke.

"Umm, Luke, I'm thinking about leaving town for a little while". She hurriedly continued, '" I have some vacation time coming and I can work from anywhere really. My authors live all over the country, I can always travel to them" , she paused looking up at him through her lashes.

Luke put down his fork and studied his friend. "Where is this coming from Ana?" Are you sure you want to leave everyone just when you're getting life on track?"

Actually Luke, thanks to you and my other friends, I'm doing great, better than great. I just have a couple of projects in the works. I've been talking with Lucious Fremantle, my mother's estate attorney. It took longer than expected but everything is now settled. I've decided to keep her home. It needs some updating but it is lovely, right on a lake. I'm hoping you'll visit." She didn't mention the investments or the insurance policies. "Also", pausing to make sure he was paying attention, "I'm writing a book and I need to be able to concentrate." She waited for his reaction.

Luke looked up in surprise and then a broad grin graced is face. "Wow, Miss Steele, I am impressed. Is that why you are always scribbling away in that notebook? What's it about?

Now afraid her idea is foolish, "Well, a young, inexperienced woman marries her prince charming and later finds out that she is only there to _**serve**_ him and to cater to his dark desires. Later, she escapes, and discovers that her husband is part of a secret society and there are other 'wives' held in captivity.

Luke sipped his coffee to cover his smirk "and what pray tell is the name of this master piece?"

Proudly she stated, The Submissives Revenge.


	6. Savannah

**June, 2016**

Ana's Savannah home was turning out better than she could have hoped. Her mother and step father number four had chosen wisely. The house itself was in an exclusive gated golfing community, just five hundred feet to the lake. The yard hosted a dozen or so magnolia and weeping willow trees. The house her mother referred to as a quaint cottage was a 4000 square foot single story, 4 bedroom, and four bath piece of Savannah history. She loved the front porch with its white columns and hanging plants. Ray and Luke added a large outdoor entertaining area complete with a stone fire place and grill. Two ceiling fans installed in the covered back deck circulated the oppressive Savannah heat enough so that early mornings and evenings were comfortable. It was on this deck, in the early mornings, she felt Carla's presence and made her peace.

Her paradise became a sauna by midday and the heat drove her indoors. Not that that was a problem. Her great room was a dream; large ,comfy, slip covered sofas , a single wing backed chair, the walls in a pale yellow and tables made of reclaimed wood; simple, beautiful, classic, Ana. The kitchen, remodeled just before Carla became ill, opened to the great room, designed for entertaining.

The same relaxing feel continued to her bedroom where a wall of windows overlooked the lake. This room was larger than her Seattle apartment. There were no words to describe her private bath. In remodeling, she removed the tub and replaced it with a shower large enough for two.

Her office however was her sanctuary. Ray converted one of the larger spare bedrooms into a small, efficient library by utilizing what had been an impressive walk in closet. Two walls lined with books, her childhood desk and a chaise lounge completed her private space. It was perfect. When the heat and humidity became excessive, she retreated to her office to rework and edit her master piece. Cecelia volunteered to read it for her, offering a few suggestions. Taking a page from her mentor, she decided to use a pseudonym. It was now in the hands of an editor Cecelia recommended and much to her delight was being shopped. Little Ana Steele from small town USA was about to become a published author. Only Cecelia and Luke were aware and encouraged her every step of the way.

She hadn't packed much for her trip to Savannah; just a few personal items, flash cards, lap top, phone, tablet and one small suitcase. She wasn't moving after all. Ana did make one rather large purchase; a brand new Lexus SUV. Kate made the cross country trip with her, flying back a few days later promising to come back for the big reveal of her newly renovated home.

The last few months had gone so quickly but she was moving forward. Her mother's friends The Bookends invited her to tea. They neglected to tell her it was Long Island Iced Tea. No wonder they giggled like school girls half way through the luncheons.

Lucious Fremantle and his wife Abigail were extremely gracious. Abigail, an avid gardener was proud of her award winning roses. Ana was so impressed she engaged her help to add some color to her landscape. Abigail offered to help Ana with her selections. Not wanting to take advantage, Ana suggested that they have an early breakfast and Abigail could help her with placement.

Abigail arrived ,on time of course, ready to help her young friend add color and life to the exterior of her home. She adored the young woman with so much life to live. Ana answered the door enthusiastically, grateful for the company and the task at hand. After a light breakfast Ana excitedly presented her selections of pink and white blooming plants.

Abigail hesitated for a moment, Ana honey, these are beautiful for sure, but are you certain you want to plant these?" "Yes of course, look how delicate the petals are". She had spent hours selecting colors and textures and was disappointed Miss Abigail didn't share her enthusiasm. Speaking softly, Abigail reached to reassure Ana, "Sweetie they are beautiful and as delicate as you are, but you need to be very careful handling any of them; pointing to the Oleander, Daphne, and this one, Windflower; they can be very harmful, even poisonous. You'll need long sleeves and gloves to handle them. Better yet, let me call my gardener. You and I can supervise."

With the outside sweltering heat and humidity, Ana sought comfort in her office. Now that her book was in capable hands and home renovations complete, she could finally spend time adding finishing touches to the home that had become her refuge. Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out a box containing a hand full of flash cards from her phone. I was her habit to replace rather than download to her computer. Finally she had the time, her plan was to sort through them and print photos of friends and family to adorn the blank wall of the family room. Laughing and crying at the memories, she saved several to a disc for the walls for Savannah and Seattle. Ray would love the photo album she was planning for him, maybe for his birthday.

It would have been so much easier if the cards were dated. When she looked up, the sun was setting and it was time to think about dinner. 'I only have one more to go" she thought. Carefully placing the card in the slot on her lap top, waiting for it to load, she remembered items to add to her grocery list. Of course this would be the last card to review. It was the one she removed from Christians phone before returning it along with everything else he given her.

One by one, pictures of Ana Jose had snapped, Carla before she'd lost so much weight, selfies of the two of them making silly faces, the last time Carla visited Seattle….it was bitter sweet. She missed her mom but was comforted in know her suffering was over. Adding her favorites to the disc, she noticed a video and clicked to open.

Momentarily frozen, time stood still. Somehow she must have hit the record button before she placed her phone on a cabinet. She remembered that night with clarity and was grateful Christian had not seen the phone. The film was clear and there was no doubt who was in the video or what they were doing. During her mother's final weeks, she carried her phone everywhere, even the Red Room of Pain.

"So Banana" Ethan yelled from the kitchen, "When are you coming back?" That was met with a chorus of yeah girl, we miss you. With the exception for a few business trips, she had been in Savannah for nearly four months. Ana was so excited. This was her first big party in her new home, well vacation home. All of her friends from Seattle and Savannah, including the Townsend's, her dad, the Fremantle's, their wayward nephew Nick Andres, new friends Frannie Goldsmith, her beau Stu Redman, and two of The Bookends, Robin Stokes and Bernadine Harris. Robin and Bernadine swarmed around a flustered Ray who appeared to be in the need of rescuing.

It had been difficult getting everyone together. Between Luke's mystery job, her fathers frequent fishing trips, and visiting her authors, the timing was never right.

The kitchens marbled island was laden with smoked Georgia Stripe Bass, pork shoulder, ribs, brisket, roasted corn, salads, fresh fruit, and mouth watering cakes. The house was filled with sounds of good music, laughter, and good natured ribbing. After dinner, the men lounged on the deck as the heat gave way to a mild breeze, smoking cigars and teasing Luke about his imported beer. The ladies chatted easily, finishing off the last of the wine, clearing the table, and waiting for Abigail's famous peach cobbler to come out of the oven.

Over second helpings of the buttery peach concoction, Ana clicked her bottle to get everyone's attention. "Everyone", her friends turned their attention to her. "Thank you so much for helping me christen my vacation home. I think Carla would be pleased with the renovations and that her home will continue to be enjoyed. I also want to thank you for your support over the last year. I couldn't have made it without you. As much as I have enjoyed this respite, it is time to go home. Now, if I could just get someone to make the road trip with me…Amongst the cheers of joy, six hands volunteered.

 **December 2016**

Nearly a year after Luke and Ana began their relationship; the two friends were celebrating the publication of her first novel, The Submissives Revenge. Ana had requested that Luke wear a tux and hired a limo for the evening. They made an attractive couple as they made there way to the Mile High club for dinner. Kate, Elliott, Ethan, and Jose would join them for dancing later. Dinner was a private affair.

"Ana, you want to tell me why I have on this monkey suit and what's wrong with our usual, "The Beef and Barley"? You know they make the best burgers in the Pacific Northwest."

"Aw come on Lukie, its just one night and I wanted to do something special besides, I haven't seen you in a few weeks" Ana was practically begging.

Luke wondered how any man could deny that pout. He certainly couldn't. "Anything for you Steele. What's up"?

She handed him the carefully wrapped box she carried. "Luke I want you to be the first to have this. The last year has been challenging but you were with me every step of the way. It's as if we've known each other our whole lives. I just want to thank you. This is for you. Now open it". Ana could barely contain her excitement.

He shook the box, "It's not ticking so it's not a bomb". He opened the box, examining the contents. A broad grin covered his face.

She was practically bouncing in her seat "Luke can you believe it? I'm a published author but remember you can't tell anyone".

Luke opened the book. " _ **To my brother from another mother, love your sister from another mister"** _ Ana's neat hand writing filling the space under the title page. Luke spun Ana around and planted a wet kiss on her cheek congratulating her. He pulled back for moment, looking deep into her eyes "Ana, you know I'd do anything for you right? You and Ray have been more family to me than I have ever known". She was truly touched, attempting to determine what brought on this moment of sincerity "Back at you Sawyer. Right back at you. She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and pulled him in for a tight hug. Anyone observing might have thought they were lovers.

? POV

Arizona Daily Sun

A thirty four year old male was found this morning inside his car parked at Pulliam Airport. A passer by, noticed a man slumped over his steering wheel and notified authorities. The man, identified as Randall Flagg was pronounced dead at the scene of an apparent heart attack. Fowl play is not suspected at this time however an autopsy will be performed.

Mr. Flagg's wife said he was headed to Las Angeles for business. He is the owner of Flagg Industries Inc, an oil refinery company with head quarters in New Orleans, La. He was well known throughout Arizona for his philanthropy, particularly, The Boys and Girls Clubs of America. He leaves behind his wife Nadine of four years.

Clipping the notice and adding it to the others, the avenger mused, one more, just one more and then ill I'll be free.


	7. Why is she so worried

June 2017

"Your next appointment is here Mr. Grey", Andréa announced.

Christian didn't look up as the click clack of spiked heels crossed his Italian marble floors. He knew it was Elena. The cloying, too sweet perfume was a dead giveaway and he was just not in the mood today. Lately, she was just…well just annoying. Without warning, something landed on his desk on top of a mountain of spreadsheets and reports with a dull thud. "What the fuck Elena", he growled picking up the book and glancing at the cover. His initial thought in reviewing the cover photo was that the woman appeared to be a well trained submissive. His cock twitched. "What is this and why are you showing this to me"?

Elena all but demanded "For Christ's sake Christian, look at it and the title 'The Submissive's Revenge.' "Okay" he said still not understanding what clearly had Elena worried. I've known this _**woman**_ for nearly half of my life and something about her stance, paled face, and erratic shifting eyes were incongruent with the Domme that trained him he thought. He noticed the paleness of her face and the crease in her brow. "Christian" she began, finally taking a seat; "I've been hearing rumors for months throughout our community that some of our members are being murdered". "Oh Elena", letting out an exacerbated sigh, "I'm certain that it's simply a coincidence". Has all of that botox seeped into your brain? You are being ridiculous and what does that have to do with me or this book?

"Well", Elena tried to calm her fears as she delivered a brief synopsis of the book. "The woman in the book, I believe she's a librarian or art dealer or both, but she is shy, reserved, timid, a wall flower, seduced by a powerful, wealthy man to become his wife. After a whirlwind courtship they marry. Apparently, what he really wanted was a sex slave. She was degraded, beaten, tortured, locked away, and forced to serve him 24/7. She was simply his "pet project", collared and kept on a leash. Once she was able to escape, she learned that there were other "wives" being kept against their will; all of it run by a secret society of men practicing an extreme form of BDSM. Ultimately, she decided to exact her revenge by murdering Dom's that take advantage of innocents".

"The story takes place in New York not Seattle but the description of your playroom is spot on. The color is different but the penthouse, void of color, museum like, even the location of the room itself, top of the stairs, imposing double doors? Plus the Dom/Husband is a wealthy young billionaire."

'Interesting plot Elena but It doesn't sound like something I'll be reading. Why are you sharing this with me? Don't you have a business to run? Do you have enough time on your hands to read that garbage? "Christian, don't you see, Dom's are being murdered. It has to be a sub that believes she was wronged." Her rising voice had him on edge.

Breathing out an exasperated sigh, God he didn't have time for this, "We have all rejected a submissive for one reason or another but that doesn't mean they would commit murder" he said not convinced. He didn't want to admit it and had it not been for that Leila situation a few years ago, he wouldn't have even considered it a possibility. Even with that, he thought the plot was far fetched. The perpetrator would have been caught by now right? "Elena, still how do you know there is a connection? Why are you so concerned?"

She looked up at him with panic and fear creasing her brow. Tapping the book, I received this in the mail this morning Christian, Somehow she's gotten into my files. I knew all of them, intimately, even if they didn't know each other."

"What do you mean you _knew_ them Elena", Christian bellowed as he reviewed the bios and photos from the folder Elena suddenly produced. He knew the answer. They were of similar age and build; all attractive between 25 and 35, single, married, openly gay. She _introduced_ them to the life style. At that moment, he realized he was not "special"; he was just one of many. His therapist had been accurate in his assessment of Elena Lincoln, the pedophile, the child molester. Blood rushed to his ears, his heart rate increased, she had used him, abused him and he was not alone. Everything she'd told him over the years was a lie.

A myriad of emotions swept through him but all he could hear was she lied. She lied to me. All this time, all this time I believed every word she uttered; I trusted her and she lied. He loosened his tie as sweat dripped down his back.

He was crashing. Everything he knew to be true was a lie. He would catalog each emotion for later review. But for now, bile rose to his throat. Two questions surfaced. Why was she admitting her sins to him now and what else did she want? "Why don't you start at the beginning, he hissed through gritted teeth. His head was beginning to ache.

"Christian, there has always been a _type_ of man that excited me. Tall, slim, curly hair, firm, long legs, untouched, tight ass, soulful eyes. When I became sexually active as a young girl, I enjoyed control. As you can imagine, it is difficult to find someone that could satisfy me or had the stamina. My needs were, are powerful and all consuming. As I entered my late twenties, I started fantasizing about a young mans body and what it would be like to train him to my specifications. I started researching at the library and read about BDSM. I was fascinated and would become wet just reading about it. Eventually I got up the nerve to visit a club and from then on I was hooked.

I married Linc, but he never really satisfied me. About that time, I met your mother. She was just establishing Coping Together. We visited some organizations that had after school programs for at risk boys and girls. It was a sign I tell you. This was my answer, don't you see Christian? We would help each other. Elena's breaths shortened, her pupils dilated, her skin became flushed, pressing her thighs together as she recounted each of her students.

They were so young, so firm, and so beautiful. I taught them control and sexual prowess .They loved every moment of it. You know it worked Christian. Look at you, Master of the Universe, my Academy Award and Nobel Prize all wrapped up in my Billionaire CEO extraordinaire" she said absently licking her bottom lip. I did the same for them, they don't have your level of success, not many do, but they are at the top of their game. Top of their game! That is quite an accomplishment. I'm so proud".

Christian was speechless. He looked into the eyes of pure evil and madness, hooded in lust as she remembered her conquest. He had to get her out of his office and rid her from his life immediately. He would have the tape from this encounter destroyed. He didn't know how, but he had to rid himself of her stench. He sent a quick text to legal to dump Esclava at any cost.

"What does this have to do with me Elena? Why are you here? Do I even want you here after what you just divulged"?

"Christian, if she is following a particular timeline, she is coming for you. You are number nine. All of this started about two years ago. She's been working chronologically but they all die within 6 weeks of their birthdays. You have to believe me, you are my favorite. I've been chasing smoke since you ended our relationship.

"Elena held his glare and asked again tapping the book cover, "Christian, do you know her? She looks like your type; Petite, long brown hair, shapely legs

He took another look. Hell it could be any of the countless subs he'd had over the years. He peered closely searching for identifying marks, but his subs all had flawless skin, at least in the beginning. The photo on the front cover was enticing in that the woman was in the perfect sub position, head bowed, knees slightly parted, and hands on her thighs, her face obscured by a curtain of mahogany locks. If it weren't for the weight of the discussion, her submission would have excited him. The back cover how ever was disturbing. The sub was laying on the floor, clearly in distress with welts covering the lower half of her body. She had been punished, but his subconscious whispered the word beaten over and over.

I can't find out anything about her Christian. She is self published, apparently this started as an E-book and then to hard cover. It could be our killer or at least she might know something. I thought you could find her and well, have a talk with her.  
Christian, found the authors name, A. Rosenblum, she's not one of mine. I'll have someone look into it Elena.

He poured tall bourbon and looked towards the Seattle skyline. His head was full of questions. He was overdue to have a session with John Flynn his long time psychiatrist. Flynn tried for years to convince Christian of Elena's manipulative, duplicitous ways and he hadn't wanted to see or hear it. Now that his blinders were off, he thought with a humorless chuckle of the irony of blinders, he needed to schedule a session immediately.

Elena was scared and that worried him. Elena the High Mistress, commanding and domineering; instilled fear. He believed the devil himself might even tremble in her presence. Elena cowered to no one but she was clearly shaken. She believes regardless of the lack strong supporting evidence that these men were murdered and he could be next.

Christian's finger hovered over the number of the man who could get him the answers he needed. Before he could second guess himself, he called Welch. Glancing at the book Elena left with him, he requested a detailed background check on the eight dead men and the author A. Rosenblum.

Christian picked up the book, poured another bourbon and settled in to read the novel. Once again, the photo on the back cover disturbed him in its haunting familiarity. He had certainly left his mark on enough women. Only the fear of exposure kept some of his Submissives' from pressing charges. If the girl would just turn her head a little he thought he might recognize her. Instead, he opened the book and began to read.

The words on the page struck him like a hammer and he could no longer deny that this was, at least in part about him. The girl entered into the relationship out of love hoping for hearts and flowers. He hadn't stalked the girl as the Dom in the book had, but the trip to New York, the private jet, gliding, shibari for her birthday, restraints the color of her eyes reminded him of his favorite pet. In the story, she'd reluctantly came to the realization that their love and marriage was a farce; she'd been tricked and terrified there was no way out. The arrangement was killing her slowly. She had to find a way to escape and she finally did with the help of Blade, her husbands' sympathetic CPO.

Months of therapy taught her it was not her fault, that her _**husband**_ took advantage of her innocence and her naivety. He forced her into a life of submission, calling it BDSM. In a move for self preservation she had submitted; allowing him to use her body in unspeakable ways. She was ashamed.

Her psychiatrist explained that she was in survival mode and that if she hadn't , she might be dead. She learned that BDSM as it should be practiced could be a beautiful experience between two willing partners. A member of her support group invited her to an underground BDSM club. Wearing a bracelet symbolizing an observer, she witnessed depravity at its most vile, conjuring memories that should have remained buried. Her pain festered and manifested itself in anger and hatred and burned like white hot coals. She made a decision to go about removing scum from society so no one else would suffer.

Could the author be Anastasia? At one time he considered having a normal relationship with her. She was so sweet and beautiful and ….innocent. He had to have her. Could their time together driven her to commit murder? Was she that traumatized, that shattered? He unlocked the cabinet behind him and pulled out a file, her file. Running his fingers across the photos, he remembered the feel of her; the scent of her. When he turned to the contract, he noticed her full name and chuckled. Clever girl he thought. Anastasia Rose Steele. A. Rosenblum. A _Rose_ in Bloom. He put in another call to Welch and made this his number one priority. Find Anastasia Steele.


	8. The Confrontation

Christian appeared confidently in the doorway of Ana's office. He took a moment to observe the woman seated self-assuredly in front of him. Had she always been this beautiful? This was a very different Ana; poised, professional, assertive. Even casually attired in those god awful jeans, she was spectacular. Her ocean blue orbs still had the ability to look through him and for once he questioned why he hadn't been able to accept her love. Of course he knew why; Elena taught him love was for fools.

Ana glanced casually to her left and then back to Christian. He was still the most beautiful man she had ever seen but she had experienced the darkness inside. She and Luke had just finished an early lunch and he'd insisted on waiting until Grey arrived; just to push his buttons. She wanted to avoid a confrontation and didn't think Luke and Christian should be in the same room. She had avoided all things Christian Grey for two years. She no longer hated him but she detested being reminded of the lowest point in her life. Why did he suddenly want to see her? Curiosity outweighed the inclination to decline the meeting. Anxiety was radiating from Christian; something she never experienced. Suddenly, she felt more comfortable with her friend in the room. They had no secrets.

Christian noticed the familiar stranger in the room for the first time. A flicker of anger crossed his features and just as quickly changed back to his impassive mask. "Miss Steele or do you prefer Miss Rosenblum, is it necessary to have a body guard? Are you afraid of me?" He didn't want her afraid, but he plowed ahead unable to apply a brain to mouth filter. "This conversation is of a very...personal nature. Are you sure you want him here?"

"Christian, Luke is a very dear friend and I have nothing to hide. He knows everything, remember he worked for you. He was just leaving though weren't you Luke?" Ana answered. He made no move to leave. If it would make you more comfortable, I prepared a very detailed NDA for the three of us to sign".

Christian reviewed and agreed to the document, impressed with the detail, and signed it with his Mont Blanc. Peering over the top of the paper, he acknowledged his former security with a nod. He needed information and he wouldn't get it making threats or antagonizing them.

"Christian, what can I do for you? Why did you want to see me after all this time?" Ana gave nothing away as she waited patiently for his answer.

"Miss Steele, I see my training has been beneficial. You are at the top of your game, two books on the NY Times best seller list, guest lecturer at your alma mater, Director of new acquisitions at SIP? You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me teaching you focus and control "he finished waving his arm around her office and a smirk on his face. Why did he say that? He wanted her to be submissive but she was anything but that. This frustrating woman made him lose control at every turn.

She looked at him with her mouth slightly agape. He really believed her success was because of the lessons he attempted to _teach_ her all those years ago. She racked her brain struggling to understand the correlation between the Red Room of pain and her well earned achievements.

Ana stood placing her hands on her desk, looking down on him. "You really believe that bullshit don't you?" Perhaps you have forgotten my 4.0 GPA, or the new authors I signed before our arrangement began. My success is due to hard work, love of a good book, long hours, dedication and devotion from my friends and family. I will credit you with the inspiration for my book. The pain and shame, pausing for a moment to regain control, yes I will give you partial credit for that. But let me share this with you SIR , she spat the Moniker using air quotes, I will continue to thrive because my world is free of contracts, threats, rules and punishments. Years from now you will simply be someone I used to know for a short time, a long time ago. Hell, you probably won't even be a footnote in my personal biography. Now, what do you want Mr. Grey Sir?

A tick appeared at Christian's temple as rage coursed through his veins. No one ever spoke to him with such disdain and disrespect." Miss Steele," he growled "you need to remember with whom you are speaking. I will ruin your sweet, angelic, holier than thou persona. Would you like that? Do you want your employees, friends, and family to see photos of you naked, on your knees with my dick in your mouth? You will do well to answer my questions but never doubt that you will submit to my demands." So much for not antagonizing his former pet. Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut?

Luke moved his seat closer to Ana and whispered in her in ear. She shook her head and glared at her adversary. In a clear calm voice, shaking her head in disappointment, she reached in her satchel and produced a file. "Mr. Grey, I discovered these pictures, well actually it's a video from my phone. I can assure it was recorded unbeknownst to me and no one else has seen it. It must have happened during one of our sessions when my mother was in the hospital. I'm reasonably certain that if these come to light _**you**_ would be ruined. Even if you produce our contract, it would be too late. The seed would be planted. I doubt even the BDSM community would support you. This does not look sane or consensual. If those photos of me ever become public, I will come forward with this file, medical reports, and my psychiatrist will testify on my behalf. Sex tapes are very popular these days. I'll only sell more books, maybe get a reality show. Look what it did for the Kardashian's. You on the other hand, have the welfare of forty thousand employees to worry about. It is our interest that we leave our past in the past, don't you think Sir?

Christian gazed at the dozen 8x10 color photos; him in all his naked glory, cane in hand, a hand full of her hair in his fist with her head pulled back, obvious fear in her eyes, her body on his playroom floor, bruised and bleeding. It appeared to tell a disturbing and disgusting story. Anastasia had used two of these photos for the cover of her novel. She was correct; it would be difficult to defend even with the contract. His anger at being in this position propelled him forward but Luke was faster.

Taking a moment to calm himself, Christian reluctantly sat down, pulling at his hair and placed his elbows on his knees. "It appears we are at an impasse. Touché Miss Steele."

Exhaling deeply, "Christian, what do you want? It's been a long time. Why are you here? I don't think it's to congratulate me on my book."

"As a matter of fact Anastasia, I do want to talk about your book." It was his turn to reach into his briefcase. Welch had given him news paper articles of the eight dead men. He handed her the file, never taking his eyes off her, waiting for her reaction. "What do you know about this?

Her brow creased as she reviewed the articles one by one and then handed the file to Luke. A look passed between them that did not go unnoticed by Christian. "I don't understand Christian. Who are these men and what does this have to do with me or my book?

In truth, he didn't know what he expected. Anything he wanted to know about Miss Steele, Welch could have gotten for him. His ability to read people was essential to the success of his billion dollar empire. Miss Steele was not a killer, but Sawyer on the other hand… _And_ they were very close.

Once again in control, "Miss Steele, these men are part of the BDSM community. I've been told they were murdered." Looking into her eyes, "I have it on good authority, I could be next".

Silence

Stuttering "But, but why would someone want them dead. Wait, you think I have something to do with this? Are you out of you mind? Look, I was in a dark place for a while, and maybe thought about killing myself…..that garnered shocked looks and gasps from both men. Realizing what she'd admitted out loud for the first time, she hurried on. "I got over it and moved forward. But to take another life? Are you fucking kidding me? What, I became a murderer because of you, a failed relationship? You really think a lot of yourself. It's a wonder your head can fit through a door with that ego!

Christian found himself on the defensive "Anastasia, I don't know what I thought. My source received a copy of your book along with these clippings", he murmured, altering the truth slightly.

Ana leaned back and observed her former Dom/Lover. He was truly worried. If someone wanted him dead, all of his security wouldn't be able to save him. If something scared Christian, mere mortals should be quaking in our boots.

More patiently this time she asked "What other information do you have? What do they have in common? Did they all share the same sub? Who else is working on this with you? Am I your only _**suspect**_? He rolled his eyes at that last question, earning him a raised eyebrow and a small smirk.

"Christian sighed rubbing his hand over his face "Barney, my IT guy and Welch are looking into it. They've looked into their backgrounds and deaths. So far it's been a dead end, no pun intended. Six of them don't even live in Seattle and none of the deaths are suspicious. If it weren't for this package I received, pointing to the file and book, I would have dismissed it completely".

Leaning forward Ana Suggested, "Christian, I'm fairly experienced in flushing out details others miss. That's what makes me a good editor. I'll clear my schedule this afternoon. Have Barney send what he has and we'll go over it."

Christian immediately sent a text to his staff. An hour later, the five of them, Luke, Ana, Christian, Barney, and Welch were hunched over spreadsheets, charts, diagrams, and cold cups of Coffee. Eight dead Dominants, having resided in seven states, two hundred subs, over a ten year span; this was a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

Keeping her voice as neutral as possible, "Christian, we have to look into the possibility the culprit was one of yours. Do we have your list?" Ana couldn't look him in the eye. She didn't want to know how many had been before or after her.

"Yes, Welsh and Barney have my list." If she would look at him he would somehow convey her name wasn't on it.

Luke knew Grey wasn't telling the _whole_ truth. "Grey, I have to wonder, why these eight? What do you have in common with all of them? If you are number nine, will there be a ten or eleven if we don't find the culprit? Luke was goading him, trying to get him to come clean. Luke was currently working with local and federal agencies investigating child sex trafficking. Elena Lincoln was on their radar. He remembered her from his days working for Grey. "Is it possible that they know Elena Lincoln? We have every reason to believe she has molested dozens of boys and girls over the last twenty years. I'm going to have my people cross reference these names with the list they have".

Time stood still. Christian stopped listening when Sawyer mention the words dozens and molestation. He thought he might faint. He left the room in search of fresh air.

Ana was left with more questions? Who is Elena Lincoln, what does she have to do with Christian? Was he molested?

Barney added the additional names to the list but it did not yield additional answers.

During the break, Luke noticed a new security detail standing outside the conference room. "Grey, where's Taylor"?

Ana glanced at her watch and noticed the time. They had been working seven hours and getting nowhere. "I hate to do this folks, but I have an appointment I can't get out of. It's my last lesson for the season. She didn't make an effort to move as everyone around her started packing up. Something was gnawing in the back of her mind but it wasn't clear; just beyond her reach. Scribbling notes, she bid the team goodnight. They would meet again in tomorrow.


	9. Teachers last day

Elena awakened in a dark, dank room that was all too familiar. Goose bumps covered her body from the chill as she realized her naked, vulnerable state. She recognized every device hanging from the walls, the canes, and floggers, cabinets filled with toys, and ropes suspended from the ceiling. The aroma of leather, sweat, and sex had once been an aphrodisiac. This was her happy place though she rightly suspected there would be no joy for her tonight. What the fuck she thought. How the hell did this happen? Here she was hanging precariously from those very ropes, her arms pulled taunt above her head, her legs uncomfortably wide from a spreader bar, a ball gag in her mouth, drool on her chin. There was no point in struggling against the restraints, even if she could scream, the dungeon was sound proof. Panic began to build. All she could do was wait for her captor to return

The last thing she remembered was following the light to the lower level leading to her dungeon. That light was never left on and even if it had been, the door would have been closed, locked and she had the only key. She remembered a prick to her shoulder just as she stepped inside the room and then waking up like this. Racking her brain to consider who could have gotten in undetected her subconscious reminded her of an endless list of ex subs and even some business partners that would want to cause her harm or worse. Elena spent her time imagining the delicious torture she would unleash on the perpetrator that dared to enter her sanctuary. The Mistress had developed methods of pain and torture that were designed to bring the strongest to their knees.

How long had she already been here? She remembered was coming home from a board meeting. My God did she detest sitting across from the insufferable Grace Grey; so perfectly upper crust, the Grand Dame of Seattle Society. Elena had to admit that Grace had been instrumental in providing both entrance to Seattle's elite and introduction to troubled youth. She would be hard pressed to determine which she appreciated more.

Elena acknowledged that she was little more than a servant in the eyes of the truly rich. Her business, Esclava was a chain of upscale salons and spas, providing exclusive services to bored, vain women that had more money than good sense. She hated Grace and all the rest of Seattle's rich. Elena was accepted on their periphery but not part of the inner circle. She laughed with them, catered to them and ignored the snide comments as they requested a glass of Dom Perignon or Fillico water. It didn't bother her too much though. During most of the mindless committee meetings, she would plan a scene or better yet remember one. Her love of the young and the beautiful was her motivation for attending these meetings after all. There was always a new crop of troubled teens in need of a _**mentor.**_

Somehow she managed to doze, and awakened when she heard someone enter the room. With her back to the door, she could only wait until this person made themselves known. Suddenly she was plunged into darkness as a blindfold covered her eyes. The pinch on her nipple announced that weighted clamps had been attached to her silicone filled breasts. Without preamble, she heard it before she felt it; the whir thru the air before the whip sliced thru her skin. Her body involuntarily jerked away from the offending object but the blows landed expertly, and relentlessly crisscrossing her back, legs and ass. Even for her the pain was nearly intolerable. The ropes were then pulled forward so that she was bent in two with her ass in the air. A nine inch dildo roughly invaded the well used rose bud, no lube for her.

Elena was the master of control and inflicting pain, having practiced her art for many years. She enjoyed being on the receiving end just as much delivering. At this moment with fear and hopelessness coursing thru her veins, the licks of the whip and her holes stuffed, her body betrayed her and she came gloriously, her juices flowing down her legs and dripping from her toes. Finally her captor removed the gag and blindfold and stood before her.

It took a moment for Elena's eyes to adjust. She could not believe who stood before her. "You mousey little bitch" she hissed. "If it isn't little Annie. It appears I underestimated you. How dare you? When I am released and get out of here I will kill you. You cannot even begin to fathom what I will do to your little ass. I will torture you to the point of passing out only to revive you so I can start all over again. When I am finished, you'll be hard pressed to earn 5$ a fuck and yes that is exactly how you will finish your days" she spat with all the venom she could muster.

The petite brunette just looked at Elena for a moment; cocking her head to one side. "Do you like my nails Elena? I just had them done at your salon, _The Slave_. Clever play on names by the way. I'm not sure about the color. It's a pearl pink; does the color wash out my hands? The young women held her hands up so Elena could see them. Elena looked at the girl, then looked at her hands and then back to the girl. What she saw in her eyes terrified her. The petite pale skinned girl with the too bright eyes was mad. Realization dawned on her that she was not leaving this room tonight or ever.

Sighing deeply the girl conveyed her contempt, "Elena, you are a cruel, vile, disgusting woman, the Genesis of so much death and destruction. I decided that the world must be rid of you and your students. You taught them, trained them to believe that taking advantage of an innocent child was a right of passage, honorable even. It wasn't Elena. Do you know or care that some of them committed suicide and left their families shattered. Do you care that some of them continued this tradition of trapping other young innocent children? Do you know or care that some of their students met the same fate, unable to finish school, turning to prostitution or drugs when you finished with them? Many of them are unable to have loving relationships and are estranged from their families? I don't care about BDSM Elena. What two or even three consenting adults do is their business. What you do Elena is criminal. How many young boys and girls have you _**mentored**_ huh? Let's see, I found a box of folders."

The girl looked through the folders again. The photos sickened her: Children that had missed enjoying their youth because of this monster. Adolescent Bodies, bound, gagged, beaten, raped at the hands of this she-whore. "How did you do it Elena? How did you get them to come back time after time so you could do this to them? Are you that good of a fuck, what carrot or threat did you use to lure them to your dungeon. Tell me Elena; you can't handle a real man?

As judge, jury and executioner, I find you guilty. It is my responsibility to break the cycle. At least you and your students won't be able to destroy any more lives. So this evening I allowed you to have one last orgasm. I hope it was satisfactory. Judging by the river running down your wrinkled ass I'll take that as a yes." The girl ended her tirade with a disgusted chuckle.

By now Elena was mumbling through the gag that had been replaced, but the girl kept on talking, almost to herself. "Okay, Elena, I have to be going. Let me apply some of my special arnica cream to that sore ass of yours. I added a little something extra and I confess it is going to be painful. Well, not the application, but the affects. Your body will feel like it's on fire for several hours. You will be dead within six. The pain may drive you mad before then. Even if by some miracle someone finds you, it will be too late. I'm leaving a copy of the files on your desk. It has been a pleasure. I have plane to catch". With those final words and one last look around, Annie flicked off the light, not bothering to close the door behind her, leaving Elena screaming and withering in pain.


	10. Introspective

**Introspective**

Eight men, eight relatively young men were dead. There wasn't an apparent thread to connect them, at least on the surface. Two of them lived in Seattle and one each in Flagstaff, Atlanta, New York, San Francisco, and St. Louis. They were single, married, or openly gay. Incomes ranged from middle class to the top two percent. There were no business, social, of familial connections and because 75% of the dead men lived outside of Seattle, the various jurisdictions had no reason to work together. Even the deaths were dissimilar enough that no one thought to connect the dots; car accident, an accidental drowning, a slip in the shower, and a fall.

Christian knew differently. They had all lived in Seattle as children, associated with Coping Together, and most importantly had been students of Elena fucking Lincoln. All that he knew of the last fifteen years of his life was a lie. The bitch convinced him he was special; it was them, just the two of them against the fucking world. Now he questioned everything he'd been taught.

He made a mental list; his parents didn't love him, he was an obligation to them, people like him and Elena weren't capable of love, people especially women would only want his money, she made him the man he is today, without her he would end up like his crack whore mother, all women were whores, he had a darkness that could only be exorcised thru BDSM, BDSM taught him focus and control, she was the only person that could ever understand him, she was his best and only friend.

He believed her. At fifteen, he began to look at his parents and siblings differently. Did conversations stop when he walked in the room, was that pity or regret in his mothers' eyes, did dad spend more time with Elliot? He could never let a girl touch him and he was a hormonal adolescent, he had needs. Elena let him touch her and she could teach him control so he could stop drinking and fighting.

Now that he knew he was one of many, that he wasn't special, that she had lied, he began questioning everything. Dad and Elliot did spend more time together because he chose to close himself off. His mothers eyes may have conveyed hurt rather than pity and maybe, just maybe he could have found a girl. He was fifteen for Christ's sake. Aren't all kids hormonal and awkward and moody at that age? He couldn't breathe.

Flash back

Christian and Elena were having their bimonthly lunch to catch up and review the PNL statements for Esclava. He was unusually animated having just returned from his weekend getaway with Anastasia. The memory brought a smile to his lips.

"What is going on with you Christian? Did you just close a huge deal? What has you all smiley?" Elena inquired.

Christian sat back as he considered how much he should tell his friend. He was certain she would be happy for him because she'd always respected and approved his decisions. Finally he spoke, "Elena, I think 'I've found someone. We've only been seeing each other for a short while, but she is….. different". There, he'd said it, but now he held his breath waiting for his mentor and confidant to respond.

Now it was Elena's turn to sit back. She had to tread carefully but there was No Way, absolutely, No fucking Way she was going to allow this happen. "I'm not sure what you mean Christian, is she a submissive"? When she noticed the uncertain shake of his head, she plowed on. "Christian, how do you even know this woman? How do you know she isn't after you for the money and prestige? Does she have a career, money; can she satisfy you dark urges? Of course she would be attracted to you but most women are. Have you bought her expensive gifts, taken her places? What woman wouldn't respond to your wealth and generosity? Christian, we, 'waving her hand between the two of them', are different. We don't do love.

Now a virgin submissive….. That is quite a gift. Imagine training her to your tastes. Go on and have your little fling but be careful. You don't want your mother to get wind of this. She'll have you married before the year is over and you know it will never last." When she saw the doubt flash across his face, it was time to stop. She didn't want to push him too far. She leaned back, sipped her wine and observed the emotions blow across his beautiful face before it settled once again on impassive.

Gone was the jovial, almost giddy mood that enveloped him when he arrived. Of course Anastasia only wanted what he could give her. She was like the rest of them. Well, so be it. It was time to treat her like the rest or she could go.

A few days later

Anastasia, to my study in five minutes" Christian bellowed in to his cell phone then pitched it across the room. "Taylor, Sawyer I call you when I need you. Please look into this matter. Someone compromising security at GEH is unacceptable. How could this happen. I want a preliminary report within the hour." The two men nodded as they left, passing the beautiful, petite brunette waiting head bowed at the boss's door.

Christian was furious, face beet red, vein throbbing in his neck, fists clenching and unclenching as he stood ram straight behind his mahogany desk. Someone had invaded his personal space in his building, in the company he had built from scratch. His security team consisted of former FBI, CIA, SPECIAL OPS, and Texas Rangers; the best of the best. Yet someone had evaded CCTV, laser beam detectors and other invisible all seeing eyes to not only enter the building but his office. Heads would roll but until then he needed a distraction and a stress reliever. Thank heavens his favorite pet was already in her room and awaiting instruction. He was hoping she would break one of the many rules of the contract, if not, well he was creative.

He opened the door and ordered her to drop to position. Stand Anastasia. The girl stood on trembling legs, her feet teetering unsteadily on 5 inch heels. Her Dom was angry and this would not bode well for her this weekend. Her only thoughts were to please him. If she could help him feel better perhaps he would see that she was special that she could have a permanent place in his life. She loved him and wanted to prove it to him but she was afraid.

Their weekends were spent mostly exploring her sexual pleasure, but it was the control that made him lightheaded. At this moment he needed to regain some of that control. He was angry that his company and his personal space had been violated but the sight of Miss Steele drove him over the edge. This is the only woman that he had considered having more with and she'd played him. Thank goodness, his only friend had opened his eyes.

"Strip Anastasia", he growled. She made quick work of sliding the robe of her shoulders and removing her bra. In two steps he was in front of her and roughly tore the thong from her body. She quivered at the unexpected move. Spread your legs Miss Steele, I want to see how wet you are. He jammed to fingers into her core disappointed to find her dry. This only added to his truth, that she didn't love him. "What's this, aren't you happy to see me? On your knees and suck me but don't make me come. This is not for your pleasure. Hands behind your back", Christian demanded. He grabbed her head and forced himself to the back of her throat. He was unable to keep himself from coming as her warm velvet tongue struggled to keep up with the vicious thrusts. My God, she made him forget about everything. She always did but it was just her _act._ He came spectacularly, shooting warm salty sperm down her throat, holding her head in place forcing her to swallow.

He hadn't wanted to come so quickly only proving to himself that his precious control was transitory. His anger increased that she still had this kind of power over him. He dragged the submissive to her feet and forced her face down on his desk. Holding her down by her neck, he reached for his acrylic ruler. "Miss Steele, I am disappointed. You made me come after I instructed you not to. Do you enjoy defying me? Do you think you should be punished?"

Ana wanted to be a good submissive for him, so she quietly responded "yes sir". With force, the ruler swooshed thru the air and landed on one firm round cheek. Christian took time to appreciate the marks left on the pale smooth surface before he began again in earnest, determined to teach his pet a memorable lesson. "Count for me Anastasia". 5, 6, 7,8. .She was screaming in agony when she reached 8. When he finished, the girl was covered in sweat, her ass was a bright red, and was crying uncontrollably. He grabbed one leg, spreading her further a part and thrust into her. Her body was still unprepared, which further angered him, and he pumped into her with the power of a freight train. "Do not come" he said through clenched teeth while pinching and twisting her nipples. Coming wasn't even a possibility. She just wanted this over. At this moment she was simply a vessel for his anger. She could feel him, building but just before he came he pulled out forcing her to her knees once again. He all but pried her jaws open as he finished off in her mouth.

"We are going to have to work on your pain tolerance this weekend Miss Steele. I am disappointed to see tears from a simple ruler. Would you like that?" Yes master. Please teach your pet to please you," she whimpered. "Very well Miss Steele. Now take a shower and some Advil. The arnica cream is in your ensuite. You may be quite sore. I'll take dinner at 6. That will give us plenty of time to work on your training."

Present Day

Remembering that day caused his chest to ache. He knew she was afraid and that angered him further. Anastasia was so responsive and willing and _loving_. During the early days of their relationship, they enjoyed what they called kinky fuckery; a combination of what they both liked. Now, he realized she had given her all to him and he was trying to be her more. He was happy. Damn Elena!

That day, he had been cruel; allowing his anger to get the better of him. She had been afraid of him and that angered him further. He'd trusted his oldest and dearest friend. It was the first time he almost ended their contract. The other time, the last time they were together, he'd taken a cane to her and left her on the play room floor. Earlier in the day he'd spotted her in a café with Jose fucking Rodriguez. There wasn't any intimacy in the interaction, but she looked so young, and beautiful and carefree. He wanted her to feel that way with _him_. Why couldn't _he_ be normal? Why couldn't _he_ have that? So he punished _her_ instead and dismissed her for the weekend.


	11. Solving the Puzzle

**Ana POV**

That gnawing feeling just wouldn't go away. They were missing something important. The obvious answer would be an unhinged submissive. She started again with what they knew; the dead men were all Dominants trained by Elena Lincoln. Elena Lincoln was a suspected pedophile and child molester. Luke was able to produce files for fifty children, twelve to sixteen years of age. She didn't ask how he got the files and didn't want to know. Could there be more? Sixteen of her victims became dominants. Including Christian's folder, there were nearly two hundred and twenty submissives. Ana temporarily set aside the realization that she had only been one of so many for him. Just a number.

The team was tracking them down, but so far nothing jumped out. So far the men and women interviewed were just busy living their lives; going to work and raising families, some still practicing, some not. Other than Elena Lincoln, there wasn't a single connection. She didn't want to think about Christian being molested so she turned her focus back to finding a killer.

The team opted to split up; Luke and Ana in her apartment, Welch and Barney at GEH. Christian had been MIA since their early morning conference call. Ana reviewed the files again. Sorting and resorting, trying to put the puzzle together.

While Welch and Barney scrutinized the submissives, Ana and Luke concentrated on tracking down the victims that had not continued to practice BDSM. They set aside three of the files because unfortunately they died years ago, and did not fit the timeline. It made her sad to think that their lives ended so young, especially after spending so much of it tortured at the hands of this Lincoln bitch. So they kept digging.

Over lunch of pizza and beer, Luke and Ana spoke with Barney and Welch. They had a few promising leads. A handful had run ins with law enforcement, at least two drug related. They would keep working and have a conference call at the end of the day.

Ana couldn't resist any longer. "Luke how does Christian know Elena Lincoln? Did she molest him too?"

Look considered his sister/friend before answering. "Ana, you know I don't like Grey, but it's his story to tell. If you want to know, you'll have to ask him" He turned back to his tablet affectively ending the discussion.

That unnamed something was beginning to take form. Sitting forward and stretching her limbs, she thought if she vocalized her suspicion, it might make more sense. "Luke, what if it isn't a submissive? I can't put my finger on it, but it doesn't make sense. Not one of the eight men, nine if you include Christian, shared a sub. I know that sounds gross but you know what I mean. I think the anger is directed at something that also involves Elena Lincoln."

"I get what you're saying Ana. My people are searching phone and computer records. Maybe there are some encrypted files we over looked. Until last night, my organization was focused exclusively on Elena and her crew. This thing runs deep. We have a list of their submissives that were of legal age, but what if they were contracting minors?" The more he talked the angrier he became. He started pacing the length of the apartment, balling the paper in his hand, pitching it against the wall.

Almost without thinking Ana went back to the files of the three teenagers gone too soon.

 _ **Chris Chambers**_ , seventeen, died of a stab wound protecting a younger student from bullying.

 _ **Jack Dawson**_ , nineteen, drowned when his small fishing boat over turned.

 _ **Andrew Stone**_ , eighteen, apparent suicide

"Suicide, Oh My God Luke! This is it. I know it! What if it's revenge for a loved one. That would make sense right? Call Welch and tell him to find everything he can on Andrew Stone. He died four years ago of a suicide. Tell him we are on our way to Grey House."

They made it to Grey House in record time. It was an intimidating thirty story glass and granite modern structure; daunting on the outside and cold on the inside; gray and white and more gray. The blonde twins at reception gave Ana a condescending once over while she and Luke waited for Welch.

The two were quickly ushered into a spacious office on the executive level; entrance gained through a combination key cards, hand swipes, retina scan, and voice recognition. Ana couldn't contain a giggle, "this is all rather James Bond isn't it"?

Welch was not amused.

For the first thirty minutes, Welch and Barney laboriously detailed the information regarding Elena's victims turned criminals. They patently ignored Ana's attempt to get the information on Andrew Stone. Once they finished, with their dissertation, they presented the folder. Welch was mumbling about it being a waste of time.

Ana greedily snatched the folder and began searching for anything that might solidify her theory. The folder contained photos of a young, good looking teenager, tall, slim, unruly hair, standing in front of a new car; the same kid graduating from high school with his family, and the last one, with Andrews arms wrapped tightly around the waist of a girl. It was the only photo where his smile appeared genuine. Ana peered more closely. If it weren't for the height difference, they could be _**twins**_.

"Fuck" she screeched, searching the additional information until she found what she was looking for. "Look at this Luke, Andrew has a twin. They were enrolled together at Berkley when he died." She groaned as she continued reading, finally fitting the final piece of the puzzle. Luke, do you remember when Miss Abigail saved us from my gardening attempts?

"Yeah Ana, but we don't have time for a trip down memory lane".

"Luke, she's a botanist." Analise Stone. Where's Christian. We have to tell him.

 **Annie POV**

She yanked the clip out of the ponytail and allowed her hair flow loosely around her neck and shoulders. Kneading the knots in her neck, some of the tension left her body. The journey was almost over. Annie stepped into a cleansing shower.

Pulling the journal, her most prized possession, from its hiding place, she caressed the well worn photos of her family and reread their letters and birthday cards. The spine of the journal could no longer support its contents so it was carefully bound by a blue ribbon. She vigilantly reviewed the multiple check lists, crossing off the completed tasks. First, the list of offenders, second, the lists of formulas and tools, and finally the list of documents needed to get away and put this chapter behind her.

Last night had been epic. The adrenalin and exhilaration was still pumping through her veins. It is almost over. Getting rid of the bitch troll was her greatest accomplishment. It was her fault, all of it. It was one thing to practice BDSM, but to lure and coerce innocent children into the life was reprehensible, child sexual abuse. What gives some one the right to abuse trust and knowingly take advantage of minors? As far Annie was concerned, the slut got off easy.

She discovered Elena Lincoln had expertly groomed and molested at least fifty young boys and girls under the guise of BDSM, all of them virgins and innocent. Sixteen of them had gone on to become Masters; eight of whom later acquired at least one very young virgin submissive; evil begetting evil. Two of the eight preferred minors but would fuck anything.

The cycle had to end. She had a three step plan.

Get rid of the offending eight. They were too late to be saved

Warn the remaining eight that she would be watching. She created detailed packets including photos of the deceased men and Elena, literature on real BDSM, information on abuse and coercion, and finally the names of therapists that did pro bono work in their hometowns. They would be mailed on her way out of town.

Chop off the head of the snake

Four years ago, she was a lost soul consumed with grief and remorse. Back then, her mind was filled with what if's and could have beens. If only she had paid more attention and listened to her intuition, things would be so different. Her therapist suggested a support group for BDSM. What she knew about the subject could fit in a thimble, but she was well aware of its consequences. She listened intently to stranger's week after week discussing depression caused by ill informed or over zealous Dominants.

Her therapist also suggested visiting BDSM clubs to get a better understanding of the lifestyle. It was an eye opening experience. She learned that BDSM, as it should be practiced was simply a matter of preference, like someone preferring it from behind versus on top. The fact that some enjoyed a little pain with their pleasure didn't bother her at all. Hell, she thought she might enjoy a little cream in her coffee one day. Safe, Sane, Consensual was the foundation of BDSM but her experience taught her some didn't abide by the guidelines. She continued with her therapy and overtime the pain receded to a dull ache.

The real turning point came when the group therapist suggested a field trip to a BDSM club. It was not uncommon for owners of clubs to work with support groups. It was an opportunity to promote a healthy view of a sexual preference. While at the club she indirectly met Ms. Elena Lincoln. Standing at the bar, mask on, she overheard a conversation between the Master and Sub.

"Charles" hissed the snake. "I have something for you, a graduation gift it you will". I know you prefer your pets _young_. I have the perfect toy. We've been working on pain tolerance and compliance. The child is very willing. Her companion was practically salivating but trying to control his glee.

She continued to listen until she learned the Cobras full name. The rest was relatively easy. Annie Googled Lincoln and observed her from a distance. All she had to do was get a job at Esclava.

Okay, that part wasn't so easy. She lacked the requisite additional four inches of height, blonde hair, and skills to be a stylist. After months of trying, she finally landed a position as a temporary receptionist for Esclava. An app installed on her phone allowed her to copy all of Elena's files. Elena was sloppy. She had all of the codes to her home, safe, and bank accounts veiled as phone numbers in her contacts.

Annie took her time devising a plan to exact her revenge. The temporary position allowed her plenty of time to travel and observe her "not so innocent" victims. Not wanting anyone else to be harmed, the execution had to be timed perfectly. She was nothing if not patient.

She was going to put her 4.0 GPA, $120,000 education from Berkley, and the parks and trails around Seattle to good use. It was a matter of developing the right chemical compound from toxic plants and there were so many from which to choose.

It had to be time released

Undetectable

Easily disbursed

She worked tirelessly developing her special potion. Sometime she felt bad for the mice she trapped near the lake for her experiments. She reasoned it was for the greater good. Ultimately she developed a spray for the men. It was slow acting but would eventually cause paralysis of the heart without leaving any discernable damage to the organ. She created a very special ointment, with a little something extra for Elena. It had worked out perfectly; a spray on a door or car handle, a little spray on their mail or newspaper, and a couple of hours later, they were gone.

Getting to Elena was surprisingly easy. She had access to her schedule, the code for the gate to her home, security cameras, and numbered off shore accounts. Annie transferred most of the money to her new Swiss bank account. She would need it for her self imposed exile.

Under the cover of darkness, she made her way to Elena's home and waited just inside the dungeon. She cringed as she imagined….shaking her head to remove the image, she set about setting up the life suckers final scene. When Elena walked in, she injected her with just enough of the modified concoction to knock her out.

She laughed out loud remembering the threats the cunt spewed.

Finally she could breathe and move forward. Her last stop was to speak with her family before heading for the airport. This was home to everyone she loved and visited them on all holidays. She would miss them dearly. Maybe one day she would return.

Breaking News

Seattle business woman Elena Lincoln, owner of the Esclava Salon and Spa chain, has been found dead in her home from an apparent home invasion. The police and FBI crime unit are at her home at this time. Her house keeper discovered the gruesome scene. We'll have more to report on the 6:00 news.


	12. Realizations

Christian was beyond frustrated. The Taiwanese deal was going south, a huge deal with a Korean telecom company was in limbo but more than that, it was a conversation with the police that had the Master of his Universe unnerved. If, no when, this information came out he would be ruined. None of the rest of it would matter.

How could he disappoint his family yet again? He had never felt truly worthy of love from the Grey's. Christian had worked hard to rid himself of the stigma of his humble beginnings. His time with Elena served as some kind of penance for not saving his birth mother and bringing anguish to Grace and Carrick. What Elena delivered he had deserved. Now his decisions and indiscretions were coming home to roost. Someone was indeed killing Doms and he nor were his team able to find the culprit.

The dead Doms lived all across the US but most were originally from or near Seattle. The one commonality was the Coping Together foundation. His mother, as founder had been brought in for an interrogation and was devastated to learn the fate of children she fought so hard to save. Now her reputation was in question. Elena was dead and the police found more than fifty folders on her desk; his name among them. It was only a matter of time before his connection with Elena would be in the headlines and more accusations would be hurled at his mother, the angel that saved him.

The FBI learned thru analysis of phone and computer records the murdered men had a penchant for children. It was further discovered that some of their tastes were extreme, landing more than a few Submissives in the hospital. Christian hadn't taken Elena seriously all those weeks ago, well not initially. It had taken some time but he was finally able to discover that A. Rosenblum was indeed a former "submissive ". Much to his surprise it was none other than the now formidable Anastasia Steele. She was no longer affected or intimidated by Dom Christian Grey, in fact, she was pretty much disgusted by the sight of him. When he attempted to remind her of the insurance photos, she astonished him with photos and a video of her own.

Yes she had written The Submissive's Revenge. No she wasn't a suspect. She had been thoroughly vetted. Her book was partially a work of fiction, born of the need to exorcise her own demons. They were at a stale mate. He had no choice but to work with her in an attempt to solve this mystery. She gave very little away in terms of her feelings for him but if he could name one emotion it would be contempt.

Anastasia, the consummate professional was also a very clever and astute young woman. While the FBI and his team focused on vengeful Submissives, she took it a step further. She and Luke combed through the files looking for other bits of information, connecting the dots, deciding on yet another motive for the murders; avenging a loved one.

Christian Grey was a mess and that is what brought him to Flynn's office the evening Elena's body was discovered.

Flynn sat across from an anxious, distraught, and defeated Christian Grey. This would be a long night. He was offered his patient his choice of coffee or tea and waited.

Christian looked towards the doctor without really seeing him, opening and closing his mouth a few times to speak but his vocal chords refused to cooperate. Rubbing his hands through his hair and over his face, his head landed in his hands and he cried. He cried for the four year old boy abused at the hands of his birth mother, her pimps, and her johns. He cried for the preadolescent boy afraid his new family would abandon him. He cried for the teenage boy abused at the hands of a monster. He cried for the lonely man living in an ivory tower who had everything and nothing.

The sun was rising when he finally left the doctors office having begun the process of purging the darkness from his soul. He was ready to move forward but knew he had a long, arduous road ahead. His throat ached from talking all night but he felt lighter and more hopeful than he had in, well ever. His first priority would be coming clean to his family. There was no illusion it would be easy. Flynn volunteered to be by his side once a time was scheduled. He and Flynn would get together in a few days to work out an intensive, comprehensive program that would keep him moving forward.

Taylor, back from an emergency with his daughter, was waiting for him as he stepped out of the office. The early morning breeze chilled the perspiration on his brow causing him to shiver slightly. By the time they arrived at Escala he was feverish, shaking uncontrollably and his chest ached. Taylor ignored Christian and called for an ambulance. Grabbing his chest, gasping for air, Christian sank to the floor thinking not now, not now, as darkness took him.


	13. healing

June 20, 2017

Annie had one final stop to make after the florist. She arranged for a Taxi take her to the cemetery and wait for her until she could say a proper goodbye. The grave site was neat and trimmed. She paid well to make sure it was always pristine. After placing the flowers, she sat on the bench. "Andy, it's done. I got rid of the she whore and her minions. They won't hurt anyone else. I know that mom's illness was hard on you. That's when the drinking started; the anger; staying away for days at a time. I should have known something else was going on but I ignored it, too caught up with graduation and getting ready for college. I was selfish.

I'm so lonely Andy. I miss you everyday. You were my other half. Clutching her chest, she continued. "After you, you left me, I found your journal. I know all about what she did to you. I sent the devil woman a copy of a book, The Submissive's Revenge, just because I liked the title; fitting don't you think? Please forgive me Andy for not protecting you but I have saved countless others in your name. You did not die in vain. I have to go away for a little while. But please know how much I love you. I have to say goodbye to Mom and Dad, you know that's going to be rough. I'm not sure I can make them understand. Wish me luck. She kissed her fingers and then touched the stone.

Unable to find Christian or Taylor, Ana and Luke headed to the last known address of Analise Stone. She wasn't there and the land lord reported she hadn't lived there for two months. They didn't have a phone number, credit cards hadn't been used, and her bank account was closed about the same time she moved out of the apartment. There were hundreds of hotels in and around Seattle that accepted cash without an ID. She could be anywhere. At two AM, they called it a night.

The next morning over pancakes and sausage, they discussed what they knew. Ana periodically checked her phone for any word from Christian or Welch.

With his mouth full, Luke looked up to Ana, "I think I might know where she could be. It's probably a long shot but"…..

"Go ahead Luke, what is it? I don't' have a clue where she could be."

"Just grab your bag shorty and come on".

An hour later, they pulled up to a beautifully manicured, park like setting of The Bridges Cemetery.

"Confused, she asked, "What are we doing here Luke?".

"I don't know Ana, I thought she might want to say goodbye to Andrew in case she's leaving town.

They walked quietly towards the final resting place of Andrew Stone. So engrossed in their search, they nearly collided with a petite blonde with a sharp bob hair cut and large dark glasses. She was carrying a single blood orange rose.

A few steps later, they found it. The headstone lay in front of a marble bench. Some one had indeed been there; a fresh bouquet of sun flowers on the grave. "We missed her Ana whispered". They scanned the cemetery looking for any trace when they spotted, just a few rows over, a bouquet of blood orange roses. Realization dawned on both of them at the same time. "The girl we ran into, it was her"!

Ana and Luke made their way over to the double headstone of Angelina and Paul Stone; Luke pulled up the information on Andrew Stone on his phone. 'Damn Ana, how did we miss this? The mother died of cancer a year before Andrew committed suicide and then the father is killed by a crazed ex-employee less than a year after Andrew."

Tears streamed down Ana's face as she thought of the lonely young woman losing her entire family in such a short span of time. "She's all alone Luke".

They ran out of the cemetery searching the street. There was no sign of her. She was gone.

 **July 2, 2017**

Bronchial Pneumonia and an acute respiratory infection brought him to his knees and two weeks in the hospital. He hadn't felt for well several days, but brushed it off as lack of sleep, anxiety over the serial killer, Elena, and over indulgence in 100 year old bourbon. Much to the distress of his family, the doctors suggested a medically induced coma to give his body a chance to rest and heal. He awoke to his mothers red rimmed eyes, asleep at his side. Her excitement at seeing him awake was evident when she lunged at him and held him in a tight embrace. After a few moments, he returned her embrace for the first time; which only made his mom hold him tighter. That is how his father found them. Mia and Elliot arrived later in the day.

The conversation was light and jovial thanks to Elliott. Christian allowed himself to enjoy the easy banter, smiling appropriately but without really participating. He indulged the fluffed pillows, inquiries of his comfort, and kisses to his forehead. He wanted to remember this, certain they wouldn't have anything to do with him once they knew everything. He was well aware of the worried exchanges and grateful they were evading the elephant in the room.

Christian was accustomed to presentations, negotiations, and hostile takeovers. Nothing in his repertoire prepared him for the conversation he was about to have with his family. Regret and loss permeated his soul. After today he would be alone. The good doctor tried to convince him other wise. Flynn kept his word and sat just to Christian's left; his family, tension marring their faces, waited anxiously in front of him. He observed each one of them and slowly began his story. His voice cracked several times, especially when his mother and sister broke into a fit of tears.

Of course they already knew that Elena had abused him. The FBI informed them that his name was among the files found in her home. Thankfully he was a minor at the time so his name couldn't be released to the public. They didn't know about the BDSM and his submissives. His father was anguished, his brother homicidal, Mia in shock, and his mother was inconsolable.

Carrick, holding his heart broken wife, was the first to break the silence, "Christian, I know a little something about pedophiles and child molesters; more than I ever wanted to know in fact. I've prosecuted my fair share. They are predators. It is their life's mission to prey on the innocent and isolate them their families. " This only made his mother cry harder. In her grief, she exclaimed "it's my fault, I'm a doctor, trained to recognize the signs of abuse and I failed you."

By now, Christian was up pacing the floor, copper locks in disarray. He dropped to his knees in front of his mother. It's not your fault, or dads, its all on me. Don't you see I'm fifty shades of fucked up?

Flynn cleared his voice and stood to address the very distraught, emotional family. He was confident they would get through this. It was the first step towards eradicating the venomous poisonous bite from Elena.

"Mr. Grey, Dr. Grey, we could spend the next hundred years rehashing and reviewing every conversation, every glance, every action, and reaction and it wouldn't change a thing, We are here today mostly because Elena Lincoln took advantage of a very troubled, impressionable young boy. She was an Academy Award winning actress, but most psychopaths are. She acted without conscience and wrecked havoc on lives of dozens of children and their families. The repercussions of her actions may be felt for years.

Christian and I will work on all of his issues. There will come a time when we will want to include the entire family in the sessions. The family needs come together and heal. Together we will get through this.

Ever the jokester, Elliott yelled for a "group hug".

Christian sat in Flynn's office ready to put his chapter behind him. For a brilliant businessman, he'd made some foolish mistakes. "Why didn't it see _her_ for what she was John _?_ My God, I make hundreds of decisions a day, affecting thousands of lives, in a dozen countries. I make my living reading people. My business depends on it. I'm so fucking stupid."

"Christian, the brilliant business you are today, would never have fallen into her web of deceit. She preyed on the innocent, vulnerable boys and girls of Seattle. She was a psychopath, without any moral qualms or conscience about using or abusing those children including you. She insinuated herself into your life at every turn. Your mother unwittingly provided Elena the tools necessary to aid in her seduction. Grace is no fool Christian, yet she too was bitten by the snake.

Christian groaned considering the burden of guilt Grace carried. "John, I'm ready to move forward. I have hurt so many people and missed out on having a life with my family. I don't want to continue down that road.

John clapped his hands together. "Good, that's what I want to hear. Shall we get started"? He handed Christian a single sheet of paper with a four bullet outline. "Christian, these will be our talking points for as long as it takes.

 **Solution Based Therapy**

 **Birth Mother/Elena**

 **Anger Management**

 **Touch Therapy**

The doctor gave Christian a few minutes to review. "Any questions so far Christian?"

Christian just shook his head and waited for the doctor to continue **.**

"Very well", he continued. "Let me begin by saying I am very excited and hopeful that what we discuss in this office will set you on the road to recovery. It may be difficult and overwhelming at times but the reward is you being able to live a full and rewarding life."

Christian skeptically viewed the doctor "Just tell me where and how to start".

"It has long been my professional opinion that you are suffering from PTSD. In fact, you are the text book definition of a PTSD sufferer. Before you could have been diagnosed and successfully treated, you met Elena. She used your disorder to her advantage and added a new one; Stockholm syndrome. She abused you and made you think is was acceptable. That woman isolated you from your family, convincing you that she was your only friend; the only one that would ever understand you. She taught you a warped, cruel version of BDSM as a coping mechanism."

Christian was listening intently and wondered if he would ever be normal. He wanted to object but based on what he now knew, there was no point. For the first time in all the years John had been his shrink, he was open and willing and desperate to change.

"Christian, the first thing we are going to do is develop a two year plan, which is the basis for SBT. Visualize where you want to be and we will develop a road map to get there. You do this everyday when acquiring new businesses for GEH. It's basically the same thought process."

"I want you to see that Elena isolated you from your friends and family by convincing you that they didn't really love, they couldn't love you; you are unlovable. Think back to your early years with your family and give me three examples, hell give me one, where Grace or Carrick mistreated you or were unkind". Flynn sat back and waited.

Christian stared out the window. Certainly there must something, some moment that made him question their love. He came up empty. "I don't know John, there wasn't just _one_ thing. I wasn't something they did or didn't do, but I felt it."

Flynn nodded, "yes, you may have felt it but that is a symptom of the PTSD. Negative feelings about yourself or other people, Inability to experience positive emotions, Irritability, angry outbursts or aggressive behavior. On top of all of that Elena essentially held you hostage for nearly fifteen years, rewarding and punishishing you and manipulating you until you identified with her and _acted_ like her.

Over the next several months they talked about the vicious Pimp-John-Prostitute cycle that had controlled more than two thirds of his life; first with his mother and then later with Elena procuring his submissives. _All except one he thought._ It repulsed him when he acknowledged that he had _**become**_ a John, with Elena his pimp.

During this time, John arranged for him to meet with practicing Dominants and Submissives. Again disgusted that he had taken Elena at her word, he was tempted to offer an apology to a few of his former subs. _He paled thinking about a particular brunette._

John broached the subject of forgiving his birth mother and Christian exploded. "Forgive her"? He screamed, ripping his shirt open to expose his scars, "Are you fucking kidding me?" I live with a constant reminder of her neglect. Every time I look in the mirror, I'm reminded of what she allowed to happen".

Flynn waited for his patient to calm down. "Christian, your mother was sick and unable to care for you or her. By your own admission, she would hide you as best she could to keep you safe. She did not want harm to come to you. If she hadn't wanted you, she could have given you away or worse yet sold you to the highest bidder. Christian, she was human. She made horrible, life altering choices. She deserves to be forgiven. We all deserve to be forgiven. Don't you want to be forgiven?"

Together they tackled his road map while simultaneously working in on his PTSD, affects of Stockholm syndrome, touch and anger issues. Flynn advised that he take a two month leave of absence to work with various specialists in touch therapy and anger management. "Christian, look at it as taking a full load of classes your first semester of college. I would suggest an inpatient clinic, but now that you are keenly focused, I don't believe that is necessary.

You will learn that many of your challenges are intertwined. Your self loathing and belief that you can't love or be loved; makes you angry. Your fear of abandonment and inability to be touched; makes you angry. The loss of control makes you angry. It is all tied to PTSS and Stockholm syndrome. The good news is that with hard work and determination, we can turn everything around.

Christian could only nod in agreement. He had been angry his entire life about, well everything.

Together Flynn and Christian discussed empathy. He finally accepted that his charity was because he didn't want others to go hungry, homeless, or uneducated. Once again Elena had tainted his reasoning, reinforcing his inability to feel, convincing him that it was just good business. Flynn had suggested that he could have simply written a check if he didn't have a heart.

Christian scoffed at that "No John, I couldn't just right a check. There were too much at stake. I had to make sure the money, food and materials fell into the right hands. Some of the progress the agricultural department at WSU is on the cusp of making scientific break thoughts and the long term implications…He stopped when he noticed the smirk on the doctor's face.

"What are you grinning about?" he asked thru gritted teeth.

"You Christian. You care about feeding the hungry and you enjoyed the challenge. You should see your face describing breakthroughs on techniques I'll never understand. Not only that, but there was a sense of pride in your voice. Stop telling yourself you don't have a heart".

"Bullshit it was just..."

"Yeah, I know just good business. Still not convinced eh? Let's talk about your mother and Mia", the doc continued. "All they have to do is mention something in passing and voila, they have it; anything from cooking school in Paris to a new radiology equipment for the hospital. "

"That doesn't prove anything John. They wanted it. I had the money. I bought it."

"But why do you care? Could it be that it made them happy and _you_ wanted them to be happy?"

Christian sighed, about to reveal an act that had plagued him for over two years. "If I had a heart I wouldn't have treated Anastasia the way I did. I should have followed my instincts and not listened to Elena. She was so beautiful, kind loving and I treated her horribly.

A shocked John Flynn finally asked "who is this Anastasia Christian?" I haven't heard her name before. When were you with her? Was she a submissive?"

The remainder of the session, Christian unloaded his guilt and remorse for the way he had mistreated Anastasia, the way they met, what he'd felt, Elena's influence, the last time they were in the playroom, and finally her ending the contract.

"Looking through my notes, it appears that you started having a difficult time keeping submissives about that time. Why do you think that was?"

"They weren't Anastasia. It took me a long time to realize that but I looked for her in all of them. They were all petite, pale, and brunette but they didn't have her heart, her soul. I can't even put her in the same category as any of them. She was so much fucking more and I punished her because I didn't deserve her. How sick is that?"

"So Christian, this number two on the SBT goal setting exercise; First on the list is to repair the relationship with your family, second is to have a _Normal_ Relationship, does that have anything to do with your Anastasia?"

"She won't want anything to do with me John. More than anything, I broke her trust. I know now that BDSM is all about trust. I didn't know it at the time of course. It seems my _teacher_ left that lesson out. Why didn't I listen to you years ago when you suggested that I do my own research into the lifestyle?"

"Remember Christian, you can't live your life with what ifs. Why not reach out to her, to apologize if nothing else. Maybe one day you can be friends. Now, what are your plans for the holiday?

'Sheepishly, um, I'm taking the family and Ros and Gwen out on the Grace and then over to Bainbridge Island. We'll be back on Monday early enough for Elliott and dad to join me for a Sea Hawks game".

"That's great Christian; we still have a lot of work to do but you've come a long way".

Standing to shake the man's hand, "your right John, I never would have imagined a year ago that I would actually be looking forward to a weekend, on my boat, with the family.

 **February 2018**

Ana was comfortably seated in her favorite coffee shop sipping her new favorite drink, chi tea latte. She loved it here. It had the feel of and old world library with the walls stacked high with books, vintage, over stuffed chairs, a barista and bakery. What was not to love? It was her private sanctuary.

Now that the search of "dominant killer" was in more capable hands and her 3rd book was quickly climbing the best seller list, she had the luxury of taking a few days for herself. She and Kate were planning a girl's trip; a combination vacation and pre wedding getaway before Kate's and Elliot's big day.

Reflecting over the last year still sent shivers down her spine. Never in a million years would she have even considered the possibility of being caught up in the madness of chasing a serial killer. Jason told her that a copy of her book was delivered to Elena along with the list of the eight men. That was how she came to be involved in that whole clusterfuck.

She and Luke occasionally wondered where Annie might be and how she was doing. They hoped she was able to find peace. It's not that they condoned murder, but they understood. That was also the reason Luke waited a few days before he turned over the folder on Andrew and Analise Stone. His organization was unable to find anything. He questioned whether it was ability or priority. Regardless, she had simply disappeared.

The case stirred up memories that were uncomfortable. Immediately after the events, the old nightmares plagued her but not like before. She was much more comfortable with her sexuality and was learning what she liked and didn't like. She also knew that she was no ones submissive, in or out of the bedroom. If a man was going to spank her bottom, he better be ok with getting spanked.

With the support of Cecelia, and her therapist (yes she did decide to see one), she accepted that she had been involved in a toxic relationship; one, that over time had chipped away at her self esteem and everything she thought she knew about love, and relationships. She had become a submissive simply because she wanted what so many before her had wanted...Christian Grey's love. It had taken her mothers death to remove the proverbial blindfold from her eyes. "Mom, thank you so much for opening my eyes. I don't know where I'd be now if you hadn't encouraged me to be true to myself".

Ana had yet to find the love of her life but she was no longer afraid. She dated often and had enjoyed one relatively long relationship. It ended only because she didn't want to leave Seattle when Brandon's firm moved him to NY. Sighing deeply she closed her eyes resting her head on the back of the chair. When she opened them, someone was standing in front of her. She looked up and was met with nervous Grey eyes.

For a moment they stared at each other, neither sure how to proceed. After what seemed like hours, but probably only a minute or two, Ana's southern manners won out and she gestured him to sit. Tilting her head to one side, she waited for the man in front of her to speak. "Should I even ask how you knew where to find me? I swear Grey, your stalker tendencies know no bounds"

"Anastasia" he began, rubbing his hands thru his hair and over his face, "damn it, you have refused every effort to return my calls and emails". I wanted to reach out to, to thank you and to apologize. Christian held up his hand when Anastasia attempted to interrupt. When she sat back in her chair, he continued. Over the next several hours, he told his story from early childhood, thru adolescence, introduction to BDSM, Elena, subsequent and on going therapy.

"I now know that the way I treated you was despicable. It was so very wrong. I knew that you were falling for me and I took advantage of that. I had been taught that a virgin submissive was a right of passage, a privilege, an honor; BDSM Elena Lincoln style. God forgive me." A lump formed in his throat as he remembered her tears and the damage he'd left on her emotionally and physically. "I abused your trust." He shook his head and reluctantly looked into her eyes for the first time since he began telling his story. Clear blue eyes stared back at him, her face unreadable.

"So we have Elena to blame for what happened to us? I never thought I would say this about anyone, but I'm glad she's dead. I get it Christian, I really do. She was an experienced child predator. Once you were under her spell, she filled your head with lies, alienated you from your family. She had you under her thumb for six year, well twelve really if you include the "escort business". Shaking her head, she imagined a young, awkward, sullen teenage boy. She hurt for him.

Christian, your history is difficult to hear and my heart breaks for the child and teenager that suffered so much. I am happy that you are receiving the therapy you needed so long ago. But seriously Christian, a right of passage? You treated me like a dog, ejaculated on me, fucking me from behind on my knees, and then telling me good girl? You did everything but pet me on my head for Christ's sake! The memories flooding to the surface had her practically hyperventilating. Alarmed Christian didn't know what to do. He rightly sensed that touching her was out of the question.

Slowly she raised her head and observed the object of her pain. "I spent a long time enduring nightmares and afraid to become involved with any man. I questioned my judgment about everything. How the hell did I let myself get to agree to a contract for Christ's sake web? Was I that stupid, desperate, and naive? What vibe did I give off that you so easily picked up on?

I fear, that my mother died disappointed in the life I was living. She thought I was in an abusive relationship. She was so sad for me and it breaks my heart to know that I brought that pain to her in her final hours. I hated myself and woke up screaming in the night, dreaming of my mother turning her back on me. Don't you get it? I don't want to relive any of that shit Christian. I was the darkest time of my life. I want to move forward and your presence just brings me back to that cesspool.

Christian bowed his head in shame. This is not what he wanted for her. Finally she added, "I share some of the responsibility for my involvement with you. I ignored your warning because I thought you could love me. It was my choice to stay. I signed a contract allowing all of it. I don't hate you for that but for a long time, I didn't like me. Even after I agreed to that….arrangement, there were times when we were almost like any other couple. Well other than me calling you master" she finished with a wry chuckle. But when it was bad, I questioned my sanity when I would return the following weekend. But I did return."

I was angry because you used my love against me. I was just a number to you. You never loved me; you took advantage of my youth and inexperience. BDSM, as you practiced was cruel and demeaning. I'd like to think that chapter is behind me and if you continue to practice BDSM, you are practicing it the right way. This, pointing to her chest, "Submissive's Revenge" is to simply be happy; no contracts, no NDA's, no rules, other than my own, to live life to its fullest, and to make my parents proud. Regardless of everything Christian, I want you to be happy too.

He didn't know if what he had to say would make things better or worse, but he had nothing to lose. He leaned over the table, placing his hands flat on the table. "You're wrong about part of it Ana". He hurried on, it was now or never. "First of all, I've given up the life style. I no longer need or want it. I don't have a problem with BDSM but I used it inappropriately and as a coping mechanism.

Secondly, I did love you; I just didn't know how to embrace that emotion at the time. I'd been taught that love was for fools; that I was neither capable of giving or receiving love. It made me so angry that I couldn't have a normal relationship with you that I took my anger and frustration out in the play room. I'm not making excuses and I don't expect you to forgive me. I just want you to know that I am so very sorry. I will never forgive my self for the way I treated you."

Ana stared at him for a long time. It brought her a small amount of relief to know that she hadn't been totally wrong. "Christian, I forgive you; in fact, I forgave you a long time ago. The person I struggled to forgive was me. I let myself down and I let my family down. I deserve more than a relationship based on a contract. But I settled for that. So if you want absolution from me, you have it. The rest of it is on me. You need to forgive yourself so you can move forward."

Christian smiled inwardly for the first time since he'd entered the book store. She had forgiven him and she did not hate him. He wanted to make this right somehow. Anastasia was different, and always had been. The only time he came close to being happy, it was with her. He knew that at least for a while she was happy with him too. Ana had always been the light to his darkness even though he hadn't realized it at the time.

He was not delusional enough to think she would fall into his arms today or ever but he had hope. "Anastasia, I've had a lot of time to think about what I want in life. I took some time off to work on myself, and spend time with my family. Up until now it's been void of any real joy. I realized sadly, that I've never taken the time to cultivate friendships. I'd like to try to make amends and perhaps we could become friends."

This time Ana looked like a deer caught in headlights. Gazing into gray eyes he looked so hopeful and sad at the same time. "Christian, I don't know if that is even possible. It's taken me a long time to grow into the person I am and I like me. I'll never submit to you or any man. We have an ugly, sordid history and"

Christian cut her off "just think about it Anastasia. I'm not in the lifestyle anymore and I don't want that for you. I should never have lead you down that rabbit hole. I was selfish. There are very few people in this world that I trust and I trust you. More importantly I want you to trust me again.

Ana looked down at her phone and realized she was late for dinner with Cecelia. "Christian, I want to thank you for finding me today. This conversation was enlightening and long over due. I will give it some thought. This is my favorite spot. Maybe I'll see you here again", she said, raising an eyebrow with a smirk on her lips.

Together they stood to leave. He walked her to her car. Just as the door was closing, her name a whisper on his lips, "Anastasia". She turned to him with a barely there smile, "Christian".


	14. AN

A/N

Thank you all so much for reading my story. I was nervous posting something for the first time. I have to say that your support and encouragement have been humbling. I wanted to take a moment to address some questions and issues but feel free to PM me if I don't cover everything.

In my story, Christian is not as evolved as he is in some other stories. He is firmly in the claws of Elena, his one and only friend. The only thing he knows about BDSM is what she taught him and most of it was wrong.

 **BDSM is not wrong,** but the way Christian practiced it was wrong

Ana mentioned to Kate and implied to Jose and Ethan that she was in an abusive relationship. She made that claim because she was ashamed to admit it was BDSM. We have to remember that she was only a 21 year old virgin who knew _NOTHING_ about sex, let alone BDSM. Also, now that we know that Christian didn't adhere to the BDSM foundation of safe, sane, consensual, I think it is fair to say that it was somewhat abusive even if she signed a contract.

She clearly accepted responsibility for her actions and ultimately was only angry with herself

5\. A couple of you pointed out that Christian only cried for himself in Flynn's office and not for Anastasia. Really good point. I may edit to include his family and Ana and discuss his breakdown in more detail. That was the beginning of his transition and it deserved more attention.

A guest rightly guessed that Elena was the ultimate target so I waited until I posted "Teachers Last Day" to release her review

Another clever reviewer Cindsrose found my Stephen King Reference. I left a couple of them. I even threw a nod to the Titanic. Now that is an Epic love story.

Lastly, Ana is like so many of us the first time we fall in love. We see what we want to see and believe what we want to believe because we are in love. We wake up one day and realize we deserve better. Sometimes the guy comes back, but usually, its just a brick, on the path, to the road of life.

Again, I want to thank everyone for reading and reviewing. Your kind words have meant so much. You could just as easily spend your time doing something else. Until next time…..


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